My eyes are still wet from the last time I shed,
My hands are still warm from the touch of your skin,
And you’re already off committing your next sin.
Some nights sleep eludes me,
And my eyes close to a rising sun,
All this while a thought torments me,
What if my heart gave the right love to the wrong one?
A wanderer, A loner,
People think Ive lost my way ,
These rooted trees wouldn’t understand,
There’s no one place I want to stay.
Post Scriptum: This poem has been composed by my friend Suyash Srivastava and is third in the series Lost without you. A wonderful writer, I wish him all the best for the future.