Here i am writing a poem

While I write my poetry,
You sing at the tip of my pen,
A single line of poetry,
A single tune of harmony,
Your confession was a pleasant
Surprise,
seemed almost unbelievable,
You won’t know of my wild idea
But if you do
I must run far away
You look for something,
In my empty life,
Who are you inviting?
Waving hands! smiling face!
In empty hearts
Coming and Going
Shedding tears,
My pathetic heart’s crying,
For the unfulfilled promises
Crouching dow,
I cry!
Often whimpers in the night
Wetting my pillow with tears.