It is alright, when I invite and you don't arrive.
It is alright, when I call and you don't reply.
When tears dry, you shall find yourself again.
I shall talk of "My Sassy Girl" and you of "A moment to remember".
It is alright, when I joke and you don't laugh.
It is alright, when I tell a story and you miss the plot.
When the morning rise, you shall narrate why the Sardars grow a beard.
And if I go wry, you'll accuse me of a stone heart!
It is alright, when I verse Milton and you don't rhyme.
It is alright, when I sing a song and you only yawn.
When glooms fade, you will play a Beethoven and I a "November Rain".
I shall dance and you shall pirouette.
It is alright, if you are not here tonight.
For I am holding onto nothing, not even a thousand nights.
[This is what I am feeling tonight. It needs not be a poem outside, but you should know there is certainly a rhyme inside.]
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