Let Bygones Be Bygones
My pillow of dreams whispered in the middle of the night.
Do not sleep and write your love story.
The companion must have sniffed something of my whereabouts.
Why I come late to the bed nowadays?
Yes, I cannot hide anything to my contemporary.
This was just a beginning with a lass.
She must be in her teens.
I have totally forgotten of my age
until the very first day when she called me uncle.
I was disgusted.
Truly I felt a contrast and a contravention the theory of love.
Our random visits to lonely parks
and we exchanged books and chats
nothing beyond that.
She gave me a birthday gift
Ken Kessey's new edition ' One flew over the cuckoo's nest'
and I gave her a second hand book of Kafka's 'The Castle'.
I was very cautious with my new name uncle
and the life goes on like a fairy tale without any obstacles.
*Dedication to an unknown lass whom I met only once in my lifetime.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Added by Poetry Lover
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