Just another poem which you will hate

And your tears flow at the wrong time,
Your coloured lies stink like before,
You havent changed a bit,
And still i would take bullets for you.


You love to dance, love to sing
You love to spill the gasoline,
You havent changed a bit,
And still i play for you.


Your smile is like glowing sun
setting in the heap of dust,
You spread the fragrance which i hate,
And still i smell you.


Your wriggling thoughts are hidden well,
I cant see, neither can they,
That its just a game of 'lonely me',
And i play along like always.


You make me say things, write things,
Things which bleed, which flood,
Which dissect, which feed,
And still i write for you.


Look what you made me,
A heap of contrasting colours
Which the prism wont disperse,
And still i shine for you.


And of all these words thrown
To make you bleed,
I still smile, for i know
I dont mean any, neither do you.