Leaving a poem without a title

Leaving a poem without a title

It was Saturday when this writer made this kind of poem after listening a song and recollect the days he and his inspiration been close together as friends. However, this writer, admittingly speaking, fell in love with her only to hear her telling him as "not prepared for love."

At first, he opted to wait, but then thinking that would be nicer to stop, simply opted not to pursue all for the sake of friendship with a maiden and despite sadness, leaving her as the person behind the sketches and the one whom salvaged from worthlessness.

And as he finished his poem, this writer had left it without a title, thinking that it is worth better for the reader to read and make a title for it. Quite strange though to let himself for another to give way than to post a title for a poem he've done out of getting inspired yet he opted to leave her with her choice and instead be given a sense of respect.

Thinking that this writer once been left without any word by a once someone, and this time knowing that the maiden whom he end inspired by her presence had to leave alone and "not to think of a relationship", perhaps opted to leave yet still remains caring as a friend, with a door open for her in a certain time.

Obviously, in making that kind of poem, is this writer really inspired by her's? Or madly fell in love?

Anyways, here is the poem.

The scent of yours made me recalling

The days that we have met

The days that I can't say and nearly falling

To a beauty that can't forget

That despite I, once desperate and sank

Felt the beauty that bid thee and think of love

That Despite the tears fell into my eyes

This time springs wildflowers in a barren soil of my heart now unbound

But then once as I enticed by others to be with you

You've said "Im not prepared" and thus I appreciate through

For least worth better than leave me barren

Least the lasting friendship can't forgotten

Thinking about your pasts, and thus bid thee respect

Of giving more spaces and perhaps set her free and I lie low despite eyes near wept

I don't care about the others, nor this is not the test

She has the choice of her own, whether to have another or nevermind the rest

And in remembering every time we talk

With Carbonara and Pesto, or a potato mojo

Along with friends or perhaps we two

End up with a Toblerone for you

And in every remembering thus made me think:

Like you having distaste for green peas in every dishes

And favoring Yorkshire terriers over Persian cats

Of preferring house music and trance over rock

And loving night parties and I preferring band hangups.

Of having same likes for fried chicken and sunny side ups

Along with beer and vodka or perhaps soda for a warmup

Then with ramen with soup loaded with spice

Followed by cakes like Toblerone overload and black forest few despise

Quite strange from the days we have sought and met

From the scent of your perfume "So in love" that made me let

Move on with my senses to an unknown world as evidenced

With my works, all filled with the impression of a past revisited

And thus as the scent of yours made me still recalling

And the colour pink that is appealing

Marina, I am thankful to be a part of my life

Despite teary eyes, I am happy.