irreplacable her
unforgettable her memory
he carries under his shirt’s
left pocket his muse delicately

walks tip toed even in crowds
careful not to hit anyone
lest his pain cry out aloud
upon getting pushed by someone

tenderly loved his muse dances
with the joy that is rare
cause with each step he advances
closer and closer to her with utmost care

not one to stutter or stumble
he knows priorities like his words
fluent and his love for her not feeble
half a man he is not he shows only one third
(to the rest of us)

peaceful in their existences
smeared in love they dwell
demure muse lives on the nib of his pen
while stories he paints by the ink from his well

©Seema Tabassum 2016
© 2016
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