She likes to lose, at times in vain,
In the game of love and pain.
But as a winner, she tries,
To pass of truth, as a pack of lies.
There were hundreds and hundreds there,
Innocent victims of a common cause.
Gullibly, led to the devil’s lair,
Thinking, that was where love was.
See the flowers in the spring,
The buzzing wanderers flirting.
But, when autumn descends,
All the merrymaking ends.
Let’s dance a minuet
On the crystal floor,
And watch ourselves-
Two different people
Trying to explore,
A new horizon,
Beyond the domestic door.
Your flirting is frivolous,
Especially, when the heart feels
No desire, to reciprocate
The wants of a mercenary!
Love is not on anybody’s itinerary
It is not something contemporary,
It is fleeting and momentary,
With lust becoming complimentary.
© Jaspreet Mann