What Colour Do you See?
When I say, “a flower”,
You imagine that one on the street,
Under one of those trees,
One that could get blown away by the next gush of wind,
Or get crushed under a leather shoe,
Or die all alone, with its life sucked away,
Little by little, by both the sun and the land,
While I mean a tuberose under the moonlight,
With drops of rain water shakily gliding down her petals,
One that is yet to even open up,
How much beauty she will wake up to in this one lovely life!
She is a gifted gift!
Now, you understand why we will never see eye to eye,
Not on one thing,
Not in this birth.