Playing with colors
Adoring the blues overhead
Seeing theater enacting love
Adoring innocent smiles
Was what she loved
Not that she wasn't liking the life beyond it
Just that things didn't belong to her room
Beyond sun, moon and stars
Not that she denying love to enter her life
But some characters are just peddlers
Not the leads
She loved love stories
Dreamt of meeting her hero
But a corner in her heart was denial of it
It's not meant for everyone out here
Like they say "Only a few hearts are destined to find love."
So heads ponders on it
Then does her heart belong to the group of 'Few'?
Mesmerized by smiles
Mesmerized by talks
But never had she confessed it to the good souls
One sudden day she confessed
Not love but that her heart was not denial of love
But can't be a home of two
But can't sync with his
Sitting by bay she still thinks of the wave parting every day
But still rejoicing with the sea at the noon and mid night stars.
Stories are destined and not humans.
I think every thing is destined!
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