I dreamt of the letter again tonight
As the sun came in with its rays so bright
I stretched out my arms for what is mine
The pink letter of my countless dreams divine
I try and try to peep in inside, catch a glance
To see what you have written only for me, if I have a chance
It’s got flowers and lovely ribbons on the outside
It makes my eyes go a love-struck surprised wide
And then I see it’s not a letter at all but a beautiful pink card
With birthday wishes and the lovely handwriting of a feminine bard
It’s not mine at all, not my name anywhere at all…
Neither in the ‘to’ nor in the ‘from’
But there’s the touch of a female form
I look away in my dreams, unable to bear the pain
I had been so presumptuous, was so vain.
Peeping into the past or the future is not my business
So I shut up and look at the present dizziness
As days and nights meaninglessly whizz past us...
I just stay numb and wish that the pink letter was mine.
But neither have you cared enough nor have I
It’s been a relationship of convenience from the very start
I know you’ll say me saying this hurts.
Good news is that I don’t dream of it anymore
But the truth doesn’t set you free,
It just binds you to a greater degree.
