She

A time was there
when food won't go down the throat , thinking of someone.
A time was there
when time will pass through the time, thinking of someone.

Little presents were bought to be given ,
Big poems were written to be felt ,
Anonymous strides were taken to walk into her some moment.
Opprtunities were made to see her.

And then , the definiton of "her" changed,
She was searched down in past,
She was searched on those railings of school,
In those classes, those grounds of school.

She some times appeared to be the girl ,
having next seat in a train...
She came some time in the flashes of some mail,
She some times appeared to be the girl with good denim and bod.

Dreams have her with no face,
She talks with some known voice,
She smiles with those seen lips,
and she disappears with no known trace.

I keep feeding my aspirations,
Sorting through the likings, I have had:
I still can't draw her.