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Akshaya Janga Poem
To the boy I loved, yet could not call mine.
Days turn into months,
And months into years.
Yet your touch still lingers,
Your warmth still comforts—
But it’s not the same anymore.
They say time heals all wounds,
But every night,
I gaze at the stars
And wonder where it all went wrong,
Why it had to end,
Leaving me with this ache
And a lifetime of longing.
"Please come back," I whisper,
But only to myself,
For even a second without you
Feels like endless torment.
With each passing moment,
The pain deepens,
Bit by bit, like a relentless tide
That drowns me in your absence.
I’m gasping for air,
But there’s none to be found.
Everyone else has moved on,
Even I have, in my own way,
Because my life didn’t end
When yours did,
Though I wish it had.
I sit in the balcony,
On my favorite chair,
Gazing at the once-ethereal view.
I remember when I called it beautiful,
And you, looking at me,
Stated, “Indeed it is.”
Now, too old to be deemed beautiful,
I gaze at the chair right behind,
My fingertips collecting its dust,
My eyes sensing your absence,
And my heart—forever yearning your presence.
Copyright © Akshaya Janga | Year Posted 2024
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