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Writer's pictureGurdit

Loves Me / Loves Me Not

He knows me,

He knows me not,

He trusts me,

He trusts me not,

He thinks of me,

He thinks of me not,

He loves me,

He loves me not,

As each petal gets separated,

From the cluster of the red rose,

With just 2 remaining,

As she holds the stem with thorns.

She found him or,

He found her,

Stays in her mind,

Until, she plucks them out,

And finds another bunch of roses,

In front of her,

Waiting to be accepted,

Even if the universe conspired against it.

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