The Hangover

13 Jul

Talks, laughs, hi-fives,
Never are static,
They change,
And some take the form of a relationship

He says something,
She hardly agrees,
A smile, just that smile,
Gets her what she pleases

Those lovey-dovey phone calls,
From the corner of the bedroom,
Then lawn, balcony,
He doesn’t even realize,
When he starts playing with the broom

Those small gifts,
That good-bye peck,
Where heart controls everything,
And leads on its awesome knack

Those secrets,
That phone call,
The intimacy,
When he presses her against the wall

Those confrontations,
Where he gives up, albeit of being right,
‘Coz making sense in the argument,
Is what he prioritizes, more than winning the whole fight

All this is just a part,
Before getting apart,
When they are high with the love-wine,
After feasting on the best-friend-dine,

Lasts no love,
And in this addled phase,
A friend is lost, forever

This will, as everything does, pass,
Love-wine is merciless,
Leaves you sober,
To face, all alone,
As they call it,
The hangover


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Posted by on July 13, 2012 in Poems


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