I was holding her hand,
She was wearing a band.
In her arms,
I can feel the warmth.
She had a coke,
I was ready to smoke.
I was living my life,
But she wasn't my wife.
A week after she dumped me down,
I fucked around.
Days passed, Months passed and then the years,
Still haven't found how to control my tears.
I had a knock, She was crying,
I thought God was lying.
I hugged and hold her hand,
She was wearing the same band.
She didn't spoke a word and kissed,
The glass in my hand slipped.
She asked me to marry.
.
.
.
.
.
.
She is my wife,
I call her my Life.
©keshari
K