I look at my window, casually, every noon <br />I look at the out-world beyond my world <br />Immaturelly, to get relief out of sordid boon <br />Although I'm a half grown old. <br /> <br />Casually I watch the world, out of window-pane <br />Waiting for none; but I shine in grief <br />When she- -dear she, walks between the lane. <br />I shout in vain, although she is deaf. <br /> <br />I wait for nothing, but her often- <br />I died many in love for her <br />I died in love for Ten, <br />Although loves me not she, my dear.<br /><br />Pijush Biswas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dear-she-loves-me-not/
