For a girl who grew up on a heavy dose of E.E. Cummings, John Keats and William Shakespeare; she knew that love was a hit and miss in the tragedy of a world that swipes right or double-taps to get someone’s attention.
In cafe, by the city highway;
In the middle aisle, future ex-lovers sitting across from each other (in denial)
Oblivious of that making their hearts flutter,
will one day deplete their tissues causing all the clutter.
Dating someone is defined by the number of likes their happy selfies got on ‘gram
Happiness becomes subjected to camera rolls that won’t give a damn.
These will someday be empty deleted items notifications just like their soul,
In flashback you can see how he made her eyes roll.
All dates including these come with an expiry (date):
love doesn’t happen by chance, the wise ones say its fate!
If only I could get a date for once,
love wouldn’t pronounce me as such a dunce.