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.
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This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/y9sydnxn