Author: Avni Goyal, Class XII C
You don’t rush the flowers to bloom
You don’t dictate their colour
Or command the shape they must take
The number of petals they must bear
The texture or patterns they ought to wear
And yet, when they bloom in their own unhurried time
You admire their beauty, breathe in their fragrance, let them stir your soul.
You long to possess them, to make them your own
To weave them into your hair and showcase their beauty to the world.
You wait so patiently, gently and without demand
Embracing their essence, holding them dearly
And adoring whatever they choose to offer.
I envy those flowers…
The grace of acceptance they are shown
The time they are granted to unfold
The freedom they are given
To design their own way of blooming.
Oh, to be able to bloom like a flower!
I watch as she cries
Eyes all red, she is burning from inside
So beautiful and bright she used to be
Sunshine in everyone’s life
So warm and pleasant to feel
I watched her
As he slowly and cruelly changed her
He, who is the black thundercloud blocking her light
he made her cold
And left her all alone,
The only heat now she feels
Is the burn of hurt and defeat,
I was a child
Who watched him ignite
Her soul
Which burns now
I still am a child
Who sits next to her
Clueless and hopeless
Of what is to be done
Frightened to lose her,
To see him change her to ashes now.
