Blooming Barns

A dummy was who 

I described myself as,

Clinging to a negative past,

To shower myself with memories

Maybe to run long and last.

But then the eyes met,

I never felt that I was ready to set,

Set in the barns of blooming nightingale

To narrate a beautiful tale.

Tale of trust and share,

Scooping me out of every nightmare,

Tears that you paint into pearls

so sleek,

Only 5 minutes of time daily is all 

That I can seek.

Seeking a day, ready to explore,

Shunting every melancholy 

To a zestful chore,

Sorry for every time I fail to hold my mood up,

Nonetheless will keep trying 

To fit into your small cup.