The Stamp Paper Scam, Real Story by Jayant Tinaikar, on Telgi's takedown & unveiling the scam of ₹30,000 Cr. READ NOW
The Stamp Paper Scam, Real Story by Jayant Tinaikar, on Telgi's takedown & unveiling the scam of ₹30,000 Cr. READ NOW

Smita Das Jain

Drama Romance


Smita Das Jain

Drama Romance

Hate to Love

Hate to Love

2 mins

I hate the man that I love

He gives me problems galore.

Tall and fair, with his hair growing bald,

He does what he thinks he can.

Sometimes the words that he speaks

Comes out sharper than the sword,

He speaks his mind, without realising the discord that they cause.

The other times, he leaves the words unspoken,

Leaving it to me to draw conclusions,

Which he has the liberty to then disprove

Causing me despair and gloom.

Sometimes he gets annoyed for no rhyme or reason

Then withdraws without giving me a chance to explain,

And if I happen to do so, then conveniently complain.

I have tried many times to fight my feelings, but simply can’t.

Despite everything, for too long I can’t seem to be far apart.

Logic is one thing, but I am a human being and have a heart,

I have been like this right from the start.

All said and done, he cares,

To find such a man is rare,

Who empowers you to fight your own battles

And steps in silence when you don’t even realise he is there.

Who calls spade a spade,

Then smiles to set your heart ablaze.

His words provoke you, and it is his words that give you calm,

Who gives you the feeling that other than you

that moment he wants to be with no one.

An impatient man, he is patient with you

Then pretends that what he did is nothing new.

His silence speaks louder than actions sometimes,

Even though his words give away nothing otherwise.

Sometimes he pretends to be more interested than me in his book,

Other times he reads my mind like an open book, giving me nowhere to look.

He has me, and I have him,

Fortunately such is our fate;

Thinking of him still keeps me awake.

Then I pretend that I don’t care,

Until he is in front and I can no longer dare.

The man who I hate to love 

but can’t love to hate.

From hereon better I leave things unsaid,

But is it now too late?

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