Ends in beginnings

I've always been an

Old school admirer of love

A love that takes it own time

To grow and moves ahead 

Little by little on it's own pace

Usually being slow and steady.

I've been in love with 

The idea of love more than love itself

From a time before I even knew anything

About this little four letter word

Only to realise it every time that

It isn't and will never be just about some four English alphabets.

I've preferred love 

Over any other genre mostly

In any art form I know

Be it books, songs, movies, stories or poetries

And have lived in my own fantasy world

Having experienced love in ways which

Have now made me something that the world calls as

Hopelessly romantic.

I've understood love as

Something which cannot be put before

Someone using cheesy lines from google or pinterest

Or paragraphs on whatsapp using lots of emojis.

But rather is a beautiful spell which can only

Be lived, felt and experienced when and where it truely exists.

I believed in the existence of love

In a way I dreamt of

Which is highly and totally followed by

A happy ending with a happy music.

I know there is seemingly significant difference 

Between dreams and reality

And the world doesn't work in a way a random girl 

Who just got her heart broken dreamt off.

Love is subjective I believe and holds

Different perspectives and imagination

Among individuals and somewhere we all are in

A fantasy world of our own and heartbroken at the same time.

My poetry was for my love for love

But unfortunately like the love in a real world

An unspoken love sleeps in a broken heart

And this poem ends reciting an incomplete start 

Of an old school lover.