A Rose-Stained Love

Sometimes it's okay to

Not tell to them that you love them.

It is okay to give them

All the love which their heart can hold,

But never speak about it.

Let it be untold.

It's okay to give them a rose,

Which they folded into their favorite page

And kept it there forever,

But never kept you in their heart

The way you had a place for them

From the very start.

Let me be

The forgotten rose in the book.

One day,

When they open that page,

I hope the smell of the past still lingers

On the pale, stained beige.

Maybe it's fine to stay quiet

And let them be happy with

All your love.

Because your happiness lies in their smile,

And without a second thought,

For them, you will travel an extra mile.

Being scared to look in their eyes,

They don't reflect the same emotions,

But you still try to show it to them

Through your eyes,

And you realize, it's totally different,

And will never be the same.

I know I need to keep on going,

Letting go of all my expectations,

And loving them from afar.

Afterwards, it would be better to vent.

We parted due to the hands of a clock,

Not due to confessing what I felt.

The truth of my love

Will be buried in that rose,

Unknown to them, unknown to the world,

Only known to the poet whom

This poetry belongs,

And she sheds tears in her room.