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.
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