Life of a Flower

Under the great bright sun,
Stands a little bud dancing with fun.
The tender petals are all wrapped up,
Like a pink fairy cup.
Everyday each tender petal wakes up from her sleep,
Gazing down the hill which was very steep.
As each day passed by,
Each petal woke up with a sigh.
To breathe the fresh morning air,
And to feel the dew spread everywhere.
At last the bud bloomed into a flower,
Like a gift for happy lovers.
The birds and bees envied her,
For her petals soft as fur.
For seven days and seven nights,
She stood there looking at the beautiful sights.
But on the seventh night, her one petal was sick and dry,
She asked it again and again, ‘ why oh why’.
But as days passed by, each petal said goodbye.
At last she was a withered flower,
Standing like an expressionless tower.
Then she fell on the dry soil,
Who to her was very loyal.
She looked at the grey November sky,
Asking why oh why, tell me why.
Why I had this terrible fate?
The sky replied to her, ‘Everyone born on this planet are in the same state’.
Because the sky had seen generations after generations,
And many reunions and separations.
Oh dear flower! the sky said,
You have withered and so you are dead.
So the flower decayed day by day,
And the people trampled her on their way.
The birds and bees asked, ‘where is she? ‘
A beauty we would like to see.
But now she is hidden in history,
This is life which remains a mystery.

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