That one Old Poem

I was turning that old poem book,
the junk which held my years,
one page I flipped, and there it was,
a poem which you should hear.

It was named by you, and written for you,
scribbled through strike through words.
But the words just cleared and splayed it clear
on the page like crimson spears.

Here it goes,

I should just say that I love you best,
when you do that annoying smile,
which show your crooked teeth and the flows,
for which I like you from all my might.

I don't mind if you fail algebra or maths or stats or whatever,
I really don't mind if you fall out of line or don't play for the national gear.
I don't mind if you hang out with nerds and geeks, for I am one for sure,
and I really don't care if you cry at night, for your sister whom you lost last year.
(That's so sweet)

I try not to be obsessive, or stretch a line being first,
but it's all trying and not trying enough 'cause I always lose, I'm not strong enough.
I try not to be addictive, so that I could live without your smile,
but I tell myself I'm a fool and a lie and I fail while I fall so—nevermind.

You opened a door and entered to my heart,
how to close it, I'll never know, (*sigh*)
I imagined you were my best friend, BFF, yeah, I thought.
You'll never know that I loved you, as a friend and more, very much more.

I'm happy I could help you and keep you really in line,
helping with the homework, sharing a shoulder to cry.
I'm happy I could help you glue your broken heart,
while I found an art to glue my own, which just always cracked apart.

And here goes the thing which is said, but is half unsaid,
the fact that I'm trying to hide, oh please
is the fact—is the fact that I'm too shy to tell,
and maybe I'm a coward in life.

So I'll whisper into the heart of the night,
and sleep on my dreams till the morn,
and when I wake up I'll just shrug it off,
and wear it on my heart for long. ♥ 

and now,

I read my poem and I think of you,
so many things have changed
and while I look back, you look front 
and seem to have reached a range, estranged.

I wish I had told you, showed you at least,
or whispered to the heart of you,
but I whispered to the night and slept on my dreams,
and didn't offer my heart on a plate, for you.

But now,
I'll try,
That one old poem
will be that guiding light.
Once,
I wrote it in defeat
now I'll write it with hope
with one last wish from this old heart.
that is....
I hope you'll hear this out....!

Malsha Walgamage©
Wednesday, 22 July 2009