The White Bench

Today crossing that white bench again, I walked down the memory lane of pain This is the place where my ‘love story ‘ began And the memories flashed where I was sitting with you holding hands Not caring about the time, if it was day or dawn I witnessed here with you several winters, summers and rain And one day you came saying I am moving on as there is no gain I cried and gave several reasons to why should we retain But you were departed and I was in deep strain I sat here for several days so that I can attain That my love was not so volatile and I did not complain The Pretty pink flowers next to the bench helped me to contain My love is pure and I trust I will meet with the ‘one’ who really deserves it This is my faith, my belief about which I am so certain.