Its probably not me!

It is not my day, it is not my style
I haven't been me, not all this while

Forget what I uttered, forgive what was muttered
In this state trust me, was unsaid what mattered

I am usually in control, usually I know my way
I don't know why today, why today I am astray

Maybe in your proximity, modulated by your attraction
I have lost my wits, got bewitched by this distraction

Oh! So much remained unsaid, oh! So much is unsung
But today I err and mistake, today noise rules my lung

Come tomorrow my dearest to see, the real side of me
I am usually funny and charming, ah! This isn't at all me!

*****

The poem was written while attending a lecture; the professor was having a remarkably bad day, as he struggled with derivations, he muttered many sentences, which actually got woven into a poem of a lover who loses his wits in her presence!:)

October, 2005