A Cliché

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She loved him dearly

As she loved all the others

with the innocence of the heart

beam on the lips

gleam in the eyes...

She waited for him, too

To bring the Red roses

as she waited for the others

carrying an empty broken vase

in her withered palms...

She wrote sweet verses

to all those unpoetic souls

wearing her heart on the sleeve

pouring in to paper

till she went inkless...

As promised fondly

He also ignored

She listened, triumphantly

Too much love will kill you

Yawned,went to bed tranquilly...

By Jahooli Devi