Dear Crush,
Whenever I think about you, I get a pinkish form of blush,
Or is it a form of adrenaline rush?
Is he the significant one?
He is the glittering rays of the morning sun.
He seems to be very shy and unconditionally coy,
At times his thoughts become too soothing for my mind to annoy.
He has an exquisite form of blooming smile,
This helps me to cross mile after mile.
Is it a form of utopia?
Since I suffer from a complicated case of myopia.
At times he is nowhere to be seen,
To have a glance, why not plunge within?
Smirking reality notified me, ‘it’s just a dream’,
A pure form of hallucination and illusion brimming at the rim.
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