LOVE IS LIKE A WHITEBOARD
It was a Saturday afternoon
everybody was noisy, i was just alone
I was staring at space, not laughing about
as all the boys and the gals made some fun all around
the acetates were before me
the piling papers of the calls of yesterday were placed unstapled
he just finished writing scribbles on the whiteboard
with his pen thoroughly used, with graffiti all over the whiteness
And i thought
Oh my love is like a whiteboard
filled with what seems like an endless enigma of unknown realities
so filled with black, but when i erase
they laugh, i had nothing to do
but continue on, thinking it's just nothing
when it comes to you
with a crumpled paper in hand
i ignored what seemed like endless chatter
the whiteness of the once perfect whiteboard
reappeared before me
and i thought
oh my love is like a whiteboard
it takes time for me to erase with just nothing but a dusted scratch paper
no board eraser, but just a waning hand
of someone who is willing to erase the black in the white
oh my love is like a whiteboard
if you write on it with xoxo
i won't erase them like how i used to
I'll endure the efficacious teases behind me
and with a flourish
the whiteboard won't be that white anymore,
which i wouldn't mind,
because it was you and your hand that went all through...
but if you write otherwise,
the whiteboard won't mean anything by then
but just some random thing to be written upon,
by other people
who don't understand
my love to be just like a whiteboard...
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