Ivy grows quiet, creeping green and shy,
Twisting secret tendrils on walls that touch the sky
Just like my thoughts of him, tangled and unseen,
Winding round his steady strength, where I’ve never been.
He’s the sunlit tower, sturdy and tall,
With warmth in his laughter, casting light overall.
I’m the ivy, soft and tender, clinging close in the breeze,
Blush in gentle tease, swaying with such ease.
Bear - I call him - warm smile, strong and kind,
I weave my secret yearning, hoping he'll unwind.
He’s the pillar I cling to, with ivy’s silent dare,
A tender, trembling whisper - hoping he’ll be aware.
you are hoping he'll be aware, I hope to know who he is soon kkk nice writing bạn iu