Waves
Waves.... all bubbly and frothy...
So happy to meet me.
They tease me and run away...
Just to return in disguise..again n again.
They try to make me fall. make me smile.
Make me like they are.
Seemingly pointless and never tiring of fun.
Never ending.
Do the tiny drops that make each wave know what they are upto?
Do they know that wave needs them?
And without them there is no wave?
Amateur poetry aiming to verbalize thoughts and moments in the life of a hopeless romantic.
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