Musings Of A Flower

I am a beautiful flower in the orchard,

Often praised for how I look;

But sadly enough I can’t speak a word.

I am the subject of many a book,

That describe me and my beauty.

I too have musings about,

How being selfless is considered as my duty.

There are many little things,

That tend to go unnoticed.

No one knows what it is like to be a flower,

That is kissed,

By the sun and kids alike.

No one knows how it feels,

To be able to spread happiness,

And to have the power to heal;

I stand out in all the mess.

Nobody knows how it hurts,

When somebody plucks you:

Into tears I want to burst,

When I am thrown away unable to see the dew

And nobody will ever know,

What I feel when I’m gifted to someone.

The sentiments are a way to say,

That I’m still loved by the tonne.

Sadly, nobody knows who I really am,

Deep inside my heart and soul;

You simply have no clue,

But I play an essential role.


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