A Hopeful Romantic : Poetry pieces & Book Review

Love is the only word that might take number one False Billboard Crown. Think about it: how many people used love in anything? How many people refer to love as a lovey-dovey relationship thing? Love is a widely misused and misunderstood word. There is nothing left to call upon love except water till now.

Love is a meaningful and very complicated word; a word not to be used randomly and unwisely. It is is not just a four-letter word. It is more than a feeling of belonging and should not be a shame either. I believe that love is what makes us grow together or apart, and it is certainly not just a hopeless phase of life. So dear folks don’t be mean, but I want to love and feel loved. You may think I am a hopeless romantic. There is more to it than you think, though.  Love is a feeling of appreciation for anything you adore or enjoy having around. 

So, I wrote my very first poetry book titled “ A Hopeful Romantic.” I wrote this book as I wanted to share the number of affections I have for everything from different perspectives. My mom and friends call me a hopeless romantic because I always write about love scenes and listen to love songs. I used to be ashamed of myself because of this, but I realized it is not only me who thinks of love and it is no shame to be in love, even with your teddy bear. It is a feeling of appreciation for anything you adore or enjoy having around.

Love is anything that makes you feel safe. Family and friends are love, you and yourself are love, and you and your partner are love. Love is where you can feel complete and secure enough to live. It is not a shame to want to love and feel loved. I felt letting out this book for everyone on the planet to read, would make hopeful romantics like me feel relatable.

Not to waste your time, even more, my book is going to be on Amazon on 20th March 2020 in collaboration with Yellow Scribe Publishings.

If you want to have a look at what you will purchase, here are the links where you can review the book:

Excerpts from the book :

From the rooftop

Across the roof

I saw you,

dangling your long

bare white legs.

It was almost 5 AM

when I waved at you as if to say,

“Would you like to meet?”

I sipped my tea

while you smiled,

and said, “Yes, my dear.”

How beautiful could someone be

talking about historic

incidents? I see,

my way to get you to,

Be with me.

Sad- Happy Something

It was like someone else

lived inside her, he was her best

friend, first love at the pacific ocean.

He was that gleam of sunshine of her life

And her coat on cold and sad nights.

He was that everything when there was nothing.

He became the sad-happy something.

A princess for the night

A heart on sleeve,

Fantasy, I create

So I can seal

To be a princess of

Dreams, I want to be

Would you take my hand?

Kiss my forehead, and ask me

To dance?

Isn’t it both funny and sad?

How dreaming of you,

Is plain and blank?

A pretty mess

The way you,

Hug me, tell

The skies

How pretty

I might be.

The way you,

Tell me, show

The nights

How loved

I should be.

The way you,

Ask me, wonder

The morning

How sad

I would be.

Is all something,

Too small, to engulf

To be in love.

You’re my one

Do you remember when we were both broke?

And we cried for so long,

Yet laughed even more

Moments with you,

Are what I always want.

Ancient Notebooks

Unfolding the pages,

Of ancient and torn


Holding stories that are

Hidden and untold

Almost erased and


But there’s once,

Every part of the time

You do belong in a line of

Scars of the past,

 there is dust

On a blank rhyme that

You might like to

Sing at some point

Who am I?

Touching my edges,

Running my fingers

In circles, over my pimples

Biting my swollen lips

Combing my tangled hair and

Asking myself:

“Are you a girl?”

Not wearing any classy dresses,

Just in my hoodies and socks.

Listening to my love songs,

All-day and all-night-long.

Would you ask me out?

Or are you too paralyzed to be seen in a crowd with me?

I am not the mess you see,

I am just a girl,

trying to find me,

before I get lost in the crowd.

Did you come yet?

The weather was cold,

And I was lost

Between snowflakes, and

Calling your name

Hours passed by, and

I cried waiting

For you to tell me,

“I am here, and it’s alright”

My nose turned red,

And I couldn’t speak

 or even move a bit

Did you come yet?

What’s love?

I have been asking this

A lot lately, and it became so much

that even I lost track of a defined answer

I want to follow up, though.

Is it when we like something?

Or is it when we love something?

Is it when we try?

Or is it when we say goodbyes?

When the lips meet,

What happens next.

Does it get deeper?


I have been wondering now

What’s love?

Since I lost you, I have lost track

of what love is too.

Categories: Poetry

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