Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Last day of a rose

After a restful night,
the rays of Sun woke me up,

I opened my petals to see,
grass beneath me and sky atop.

I love the gardener,
who met me first.

He fondled me,
and quenched my thirst.

The the Sun,
shone more bright,

It gave myself,
a beautiful sight.

I hate the florist,
who plucked me up,

I was then tied with cousins,
and sold at shop.
-
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