My poet, who asketh you for your heart
Looking like broken pieces of shard...
I see no traces now of the painter, who was careless
It looks to me wonderful as a rainbow no less
Give it away not for free yet
Wait for mine to show you all its sweat
Someday we'll find it more gorgeous than all my georgettes
Then shall we be the inseparable pirouettes??
Your poetry kills me my sweetheart.
Makes love to my heart, once also broken apart
Copyright ©2008 Amit Sharma
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