I don't call it love
Do you?
Left with attachments, no more,
Feelings have turned sore.
None seem of eligible strain
Who else could win my heart to this core?
Perhaps, you are made of stone
Or ignorant enough to make me mourn.
High are your ambitions:
Trampling all emotions, you left me alone.
I wonder, how could one's will be so grown?
Nothing tastes better than your intelligence,
The maturity evolved in you is essence.
When the question arises of your native wit;
Allow me to disclose
My dear,
You make all the difference.
Now that we are apart,
I am yet holding a hope in my heart;
Perhaps we will meet when fate permits
And things would turn right, eventually
But I have a question for myself
How could I fall for that revolting face?
So I don't call it love
Do you?
©kissma
K