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Respecting fondness

He respected me in the most beautiful way possible,

By not adoring for or being pitied of my past.

Telling me those bruises would be brutal if I would touch them,

Drawing away my attention,

every time I think of my yesterday’s depression.

He admired my strength of forgiving the sinful human,

Even when somebody did awry,

He regained my faith I relinquished,

He didn’t respect my past but the human he created.

Looking at my eyes with all the affection,

He kept me mesmerised in all the situations.

In the suffering and the battles I had with myself,

The only thing he asked me to recall was his fondness.

-Riya Shah

By Ray

POET| CONTENT WRITER| BLOGGER

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