To the girl with the almond,
tear-shaped eyes
staring back at me,
I know why you cry and moan.

Alone in your thoughts,
wondering why you stalled
and stifled your own creativity
for those insecure, chiseled arms.

Swarms of ideas, swirlin.
How unlucky of you to be here,
staring at me unluxuriously-
looking as I do there.

Beware of those deep feelings
that weaken your senses.
Can’t go on losing your sensuality
for the sake of their confidence.

Consciousness is a mirror used
for the healing of your
burdened soul. Unfortunately,
he might not know, I’d build monuments
for a love reciprocated.