A love story

I met you in the college park,
with my hands on a stick and your hands on your face,
and I let out a gasp, watching you from afar,
Wondering  what I would say  when we'd meet.

I walked up to you, in the wintery morning,
When the winds were cool and the grounds were wet
When I used to be a limp, and you afraid,
And my shirts used to have holes in them.

My broken self and a cold hand,
were the things I brought you, when we met that day,
And you had a look on your face,
Whether this was the vagabond you had loved that may.


You looked in my eyes, and gave a smile too weary,
For you had woken up too early, when people around you slept
Just to meet this guy you had loved,
And I could feel nothing but sorry.

Shy and coy, we walked to the gates,
Our hands touched, and we broke into a song
You tried to look into my eyes,
But couldn't, as you were short and me, too long.

We took a ride to the holy lake,
Where lord's hyms blared and people bathed naked,
And I knew why we were in this unlikely place,
When you took my hands and tied my shoe lace.

You took me up the stairs, where no one was,
Except for a few birds, and people like us
You sat there next to me, with a smile that confused me,
And I knew we were supposed to kiss.

I took out the ring from your fingers,
Kneeled on my wobbly knees, proposed to you on our first date,
And you cried out of wonder and love,
and me because you looked too beautiful and I was wearing rags.

You leaned towards me, and we kissed on the mouth,
My heart raced, and so did yours,
And of all those who saw us kissing,
In all our wondrous glory.

And we kissed and we kissed,
And walked through meaningless people around us,
Kissing and loving and making everyone around us jealous,
In the fields, in fast food joints and even in the bus.











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