A small part of me,
Loves her in silence.
Maybe, just like a sole leaf,
Which breaks away and touches the ground, silently,
I watch over her with the same intent and serenity.
Just like an old door, oiled to cease the bothersome creaking,
I stand alone, admiring her in tranquility.
The sound of a pin dropped on her posh carpet,
Is how much she tends to hear my heartbeat or for that matter, my heartbreak.
But these words would mean nothing to her,
For she has turned a blind eye, to my existence.
Yet I would love her on and on,
Even when time ceases to exist,
Suffering in silence.
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