By-Romit Srivastava


I won't add any more colors in your already blue life.

I won't bring a ray of hope in your lightless time.

I shan't be an abject collapse to your insatiable desires.

I shan't be a mere figment of imagination when you're burning like a pyre.


I won't stop those tears from rolling down your cheeks.

I won't be able to console your inconsolable needs.


I shan't be that misogynist you always hated.

I shan't be that chauvinist, from whom you were always traded.


I won't bear your unbearable morose ways.

I won't cling to the way you bring panache to my days.


I shan't become evanescent when you're already in a room full of ghosts.

I shan't rebuff your grace even if you piss me off with your riposte.


I won't promise you to always be sanguine about our future together.

I shan't let you lose my grip even if they put you in tether.

I won't always kiss you when you're sunken and feeling depressed.

I shan't let you be alone in your fight against the world… in your loneliness.



This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon:

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