Who is a soul-mate?
The one who accompanies incessant nonsensical chatter,
Or the one who veers you back to logic and humbleness.
Who is the romantic?
The one who curls up with you in the morning chill,
Or the one who warms your palm with that lemon tea.
Who is the true friend?
The one who feeds music to weaknesses, soothes ego,
Or the one who jeers in face and confronts the hypocrisy.
Who are the well wishers?
The one who reminds you of all that you have,
Or the one who pricks you with pinpointed flaws.
Like attires in wardrobe they all hang around waiting to be chosen,
The image that you reflect depends on which ones the whims rest.
We all like variety, but when it comes to humanity we follow patterns,
Patterns of ecstasy, of hurt or deceit, of freedom or melancholic brooding.
Of all favorite patterns we followed ‘Love’ seems to be the overdone,
And the overrated, just let it be, its just one red dress that happens to,
Snugly fit, Its just you playing safe to hide all the unsightly curves,
Why go around looking for ‘Labels’ in humans, they come in infinite variety.
This was just a dance floor and you were meant to dance to all music,
Not to over-think each beat and step but to feel them and follow in trust.
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