She glares at me

There she is, sitting on my bedside stool;

Staring at me, calling me a fool.

She and I had a lifetime affair,

But now she says, I don’t care.

Her accusations have a lot of truth in them,

In chaos of life, my promises to her became a lie;

But does it look, as if she would cry?

No, but her eyes just reflect her disappointment in them.

She reminds me of days and nights ,

When we were inseparable;

The times when responsibilities had not 

Taken over the life’s loving preamble.

I wish I could tell her,

How my hands shiver just to touch her.

I remember, the excitement of picking her up,

Feeling that smoothness, and fragrance so unique.

I wish I could shout on the rooftop,

That I am in love with this -

Unopened, untouched often ignored

But always in my heart, part of my life.

But till I can, 

There lies my beloved book....

Glaring at me, 

Calling me a fool.