That Girl With Messy Bun

That girl with messy bun,

Often sits in the sun,

With glasses on,

Soaked in her thoughts,

And drenched in the sunlight.

That girl with messy bun,

Walks on the side lane,

With head bent to sideways,

Humming some tunes,

Eyes glued at her steps.

That girl with messy bun,

Colors her notebook with words,

Sketches caricatures of poetries.

Her words heavy with emotions,

Drowns everyone’s heart and soul.

That girl with messy bun,

Those messy hair hold imaginations,

Imaginations of distant places,

Poetries of unknown people and

Their life stories etched in memories.

That girl with messy bun,

Can sit with you for hours,

Only to absorb your over flowing hearts,

Can walk with you for miles,

Without getting tired just to comfort you.

That girl with messy bun,

Dances in her lonely room,

Keeping the music running in her head,

Sings her curly tales to her happy walls,

And tucks her dreams on the ceiling,

That girl with messy bun,

When unleashes her messy bun,

You can see wild horses running down,

Birds return home and

A bed of flowers is spread,

There is no discrimination and no law,

It is a world in itself without flaw.

She is the girl with messy bun

Who can tame the wild waves

And let the sun set in her brown eyes,

And in her dimple chin moon shines

In the bend of her wrist,

Entire world comes to halt.

When you see her,

Spend time with her,

Let her know what she is worth.