Wandering and Wondering
I wonder if he has ever truly been in love.
I wonder if he actually knows what the word conceives.
I wonder if there exists any warmth within him,
because honestly, none of it have I ever received.
I wonder if he means his flattery.
I wonder if their heir can ever be one.
I wonder so because it’s someone new every day,
and how much really am I allowed to wonder at the mercy of his gun?
I wonder when I think about those already shot dead.
I wonder if I would be a candidate.
I wonder so because the universe never told him about my ‘one and only’ theory,
And in earnest, who even am I to put up a debate?
I wonder if he’s ever wondered
how it would be to be more than just a name.
Oh, to be held in regard, and not simply just forgotten by flame.
I wonder in the truest sense if he’s ever borne the bloom,
because as it turns out,
it is I I wonder about,
and the hypothesis that I never tried is only easy to assume.
If only so much I didn’t wonder,
I could have broken free
from the tide that drags me under.
Nonetheless, I ask, for I know not if a man has ever genuinely been in love with me.
Copyright © Rishika Jindal | Year Posted 2026
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