You Mean A Lot To Me

It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I don’t let it show,
Your scoldings, for me are a torturous struggle,
Between my heart, which wants me to reveal that I do care,
And my mind, which reminds me of my vow,
Vow to preserve my battered and shattered self respect,
So shooing the knowledge, that I have, that all you have for me is love in your heart,
I keep mum, and let you assume,
That I don’t care enough, to listen and to follow,
I keep up my charade,
And laugh and shoo you off,
And despise the hurtful look,
That you give me afterwards, asserting to never correct me again,
I do care, I really do,
I desperately want to turn back and state my real feelings,
And remind you that I love you,
For you are indeed my best friend ,
Who has been there, just being there for me, consistently, steadily, invariably,
But I can’t,
For the fight is always won by my mind,
For it knows opening up to others can be disastrous,
So I keep mum and let you assume,
Since I know no matter how many assertions, you do,
You’ll always be the first one,
To preach me, whenever I march the tip of my toe towards the wrong direction,
For I know that you will be there always,
For I know that this is your duty as a best friend,
For I know that you take your duties very seriously,
And most of all,
For I know that, you know me, far better than I know myself.


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Member Poet: divyangana | More poems by divyangana | Send PM