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Torment me, dear.
I love you, I love you, and I love you.
I don’t know why at all I love you.
I know I should not at all love you.
I still do, as I can’t help loving you.
Had you not given me that crush and kicks,
Had you not got to rest with my verses,
And had you not admitted my advances
I would not have turned as much obsessed.
Obsess me; harass me; and haunt me.
Only in them lies much thrill of you.
04.10.2003
poem
by
Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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