Madness it was, with all its illogical panache and with a tropical twang of innocent love,
Those blackberry eyes, replicating the cosmos, had a galaxy afloat,
Those shy smiles, contradicting the tough exterior, were like pink sunsets,
The rhythmic flounce when she walked, gave out the secret that she was floored by her knight in rugged denims,
Ah! So dizzy in love, so free, filled with a sense of liberation, soaring high without feathers, but with wings of passion.
The crudeness in this madness is what makes it special- oh! The idiosyncrasies of first love, the thrills, the fantasies, the dreamy eyes, those impeccable future plans, the long roads that wind at perfect curves, those moments of solitude that leave you smiling…
All is pretty, all is pure, with promises and the works, the journey begins and time elapses,
We walk along, we start walking alone, until the day when the madness is rationalized and the crudeness is refined,
That day the charm is lost, like a dying fizz it fizzles out,
The itch of passion takes a hike, the romantic antics subside,
You grow up and treat love as a way of life and not the crazy road which is a rollercoaster ride.
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