In My Lavendar Note Book.

The tear stained paper,

and ink blot,

where the pen stuck,

in the fortress of thoughts,

a bold line,

crazily drawn over the words,

trembling hands set the book in the lap,

the lavendar leather cover,

coarse at touch,

the pen refused to ink down more,

fingers tap the cover,

the lips quiver to humm a melancholy tune,

pure but thick with woe,

absent mindedly,

the burried discomfort surfaces,

I can't lag,

these hands must write,

these hands are designed vitally to write,

must write.

H I M

( To my computer geek)

For the love of binary,

for the sake of java,

the only script you would read,

that is the most I could pronounce,

the router's down,

the usp is messed,

O! I adore you my geek,

through countless nights of useless words,

found meanings that define us best,

for all those arguments I thought I scored,

I know it was you ,who'd just let me win,

A gentle smile,

worked best for you,

while I yelled and fumed,

and promised not to talk,

"A male chauvinist"

"An egoist" - I would say,

just to be proven wrong,

and again you'll come,

all bright all sunny,

all stubbornly firm,

not losing hope,

the movies,

the football games,

"lost" and "prison break"

the gadgets,

the x-box,

underneath that tech attire,

I found you, my " computer geek"