[nukkad] Thanks Dr. Arya and Amrita, and my lattest poem

["Rajababu Nivraaj" <>]

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There is a LIE in the middle of believe. 
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My selfish heart-throb

Who would tell her,
What love stands for?
Maybe she knows it, and pretends,
She doesn’t want to give it away,
Selfishness, or self-preservation?
Who would tell her,
Why the heart pines for her,
While I toss and turn here,
She cosies herself in warm cuddlies,
She is innocent, she doesn’t understand,
Or is it that she doesn’t want to?
She has never traveled up the thorny paths of love,
She has never introspected the beatings of her Heart.
Always imagining it to be a fact of life,
Never realizing that it contained the seeds of passion.

A poem by Rajababu 

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