By Abhay Sharma
He was like the walls of her room,
He would stand by her whenever she'd cry
But could never reach out to console her.
He was like the store room of her house
Holding all her memories in his heart
But was never valued much by her.
He was like a random song she listens to,
Everytime it seems she loves that song
But then she changes the song , everytime.
There were mountains, oceans, the sun, the moon, the stars and the night sky
There was everything,
But he still chose to look at her, everytime.
He remembered the exact words spoken by her , the exact way she moved her eyebrows, the exact way she smiled, the exact way her eyes widened while speaking.
But all she could remember was he was her friend.
He saw in her the only person he ever wanted to share his deepest secrets with,
But she was also the only person who gave him the most painful memories.
He was like a spectator who had just watched a show with a very painful ending,
But he was still hoping for a happy ending, even after the show was over.
He was like a sunflower that bloomed in the presence of sun and thought that the sun had come out just for him,
Not knowing that sun would shine even if the sunflower was not there.
He was like the pillow who was the shoulder to her head ,
She remembered him only when she needed a support.
He was like a shooting star, who burned himself to shine for her,
She closed her eyes to pray, but she never prayed for him.
He was like a poet who saw her as a beautiful poem,
But the poem could never know what the poet thought of her.
He had perfumes, facewashes, combs, clothes and all his belongings in his house,
But he would always miss the home he belonged to , he would always miss her.
He was like a tree to the wind of her presence,
He always danced the way wind made him dance, but the same wind broke the branches of the tree.
She meant everything to her,
He meant nothing.
By Abhay Sharma
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