They say you’ll know when it’s true love
But I say you won’t
You won’t see it, you won’t know it
And you’ll continue to wonder why it feels different.
Why it feels new; fresh like morning dew
Why, finally after all these years
You feel like.
Ironic, indeed, Love’s ways.
You’ll be stuck in a chase; bound,
To find the best of you
For the best of whom you’ve found.
— Gunjan Sethi