There is a guy in my facebook that I used to tease of being so ‘torpe” let’s just call him “Popcorn or Mais.”…hahaha (he’ll probably kill me if he knows I’m talking about him in this blog) He would pour out his sentiment on how he could court this girl, how in the world he could let the girl knows that he is falling madly in love without being an opportunist, since they’re such good friends….The topic of our online conversation was always about the girl. How afraid he was to pursue the girl he adores. And I was so mean teasing him about how torpe he is. And to tease him farther I wrote this poem for him.
The Game of Love
A simple touch, accidentally of course,
thousands meaning run across,
better say your piece or lost,
in the game of love you bet at any cost.
Love is a trickster game,
one has to learn a part to play,
as many character you'll be,
game will roll with your chosen role.
A friend, that's what you said you are,
deep inside a lover is what you have in mind,
as choices intertwine with rules,
blindfolded in the dark you mull.
She's so close yet you're miles apart,
as friendship draw a line in between,
all you ever gonna do is steal a glance,
being afraid that you got no chance.
Torrent of emotions are sand in your palm,
you tried so hard to keep them at hand,
and the end result you got none,
you know that much yet you won't stand.
Well that was a long time ago. He is still madly, deeply in love. But this time he is no longer just a friend. :D
Happy for you Mais!