To me, life is not about diamonds or pearls, not about living in bungalows and driving branded cars. Life, at the end of the day, its about going home to the one you love dearly whom you would do just anything and everything for.
Doing it all in orange color, you like orange, don't you?
Anyway, I guess this is the last thing that I can do/give you. The Star publish the poem today and they didn’t take too long to do so coz I only sent it in last Thursday.
I’m gonna miss you. But how am I to be happy when each and everytime I thought of what had happened to you, I feel the opposite?