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I did my best, not to write, About you-- I did my

I did my best, not to write, About you-- I did my best, to write, About the torrential cloudburst; The swift tap-tapping of raindrops-- Creating frolicsome puddles, outside. I wrote about effervescent rainbows; And the flagrant colours, Of wildflowers and butterflies. To make sure, I didn't pen you, down-- I wrote of the zephyr; Whirling, away, houses and trees. But, the steady downpour, Made me think of cuddling, with you. The plashes of rain, Gave way to thoughts, Of chattering about, with you. Rainbows and colours, Alowed me to remember your smile-- The way you made the sun, fade away; Because, you were far brighter, than it was. Blooms and butterflies, merely, Confirmed vociferous memories; That I was trying to ignore. Let's not even start with the wind. For, it blew me away-- Always, towards you. So, despite all stentorian efforts, To forget you; And cease painting pieces, of you-- I began soaring through Perpetual cycles, of you-- Writing plenteous pages, Of the wondrous you. Again. You are in me, always... For a better view: I tried not to write about you...
I did my best, not to write, About you-- I did my best, to write, About the torrential cloudburst; The swift tap-tapping of raindrops-- Creating frolicsome puddles, outside. I wrote about effervescent rainbows; And the flagrant colours, Of wildflowers and butterflies. To make sure, I didn't pen you, down-- I wrote of the zephyr; Whirling, away, houses and trees. But, the steady downpour, Made me think of cuddling, with you. The plashes of rain, Gave way to thoughts, Of chattering about, with you. Rainbows and colours, Alowed me to remember your smile-- The way you made the sun, fade away; Because, you were far brighter, than it was. Blooms and butterflies, merely, Confirmed vociferous memories; That I was trying to ignore. Let's not even start with the wind. For, it blew me away-- Always, towards you. So, despite all stentorian efforts, To forget you; And cease painting pieces, of you-- I began soaring through Perpetual cycles, of you-- Writing plenteous pages, Of the wondrous you. Again. You are in me, always... For a better view: I tried not to write about you...
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Diwa

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