Occasions are to be destroyed,
Expectations are to be concealed,
'To be loved' is to be killed,
Solitude is to be filled -
With doubt and dyed.
None to provide that depth of yours,
That Innocence of yours,
That intimacy of yours.
So, this journey ends with you,
Not with your memories.
Oscillating between mind and heart,
Which should be given the priority -
Career or the heart's craving ???
Till today, the last train
Brings the lamentation for the not chosen.
With the blow of the whistle
That golden opportunity gone.
And the heartless decision
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