All of these relations,
My heart was trusted just once,
Every two hours of all of the months,
I poured down my numb emotions.
Drooling over my happiness,
Every bit of tears I confessed,
To my love I found in a mess,
Or was I too young to be so blessed.
Feelings of mine became this diary
arranged at the corner of a library,
Among the books of lover and her fairy,
The diary was just unloved and contrary.
Forgive and forget was repeated again,
Hurt and smile was our little game,
I doubted me if I was ever sane,
Or was I too young to be in such pain.
Too young for melancholy nights,
Too young for first breakup fights,
Too young for starving diets,
I was too young to regret love at first sights...
~Ishika Gautam