Now it’s just about the money you chase,
And showing off in every place.
Once you left and walked away,
No more meetings came our way.
You never liked to see me lose,
But helped me win — was that your ruse?
Perhaps that was our final meet,
You agreed with me, calm and sweet.
So much love you once would show,
Then left me all alone in woe.
You saw me lose and couldn’t bear,
Then dropped your gaze, as if not there.
I try to forget that painful scene,
But “Geet” recalls what might have been.
6.35pm 10 June 2025
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