There\'s a gate I pass each evening,
hoping to catch a glimpse of you.
My eyes scan the crowd, for a face–
the one my heart memorized a long ago.
AND THEN..
I slow down, not because I\'m tired
But because you\'re there, by the gate
Turning an ordinary walk into poetry.
We passed.
The gate swallowed us both.
I looked back hoping you\'d do the same. And
how silly of me–
To forget that I don\'t exist in your world.
But..
Somewhere between my footsteps and silence,
I hope your heart hears mine.
And maybe, just maybe..
one day you\'ll stop by the gate for me too.
–shradha.