Friday, December 19, 2008


I was walking down the street
When all at once I saw a bunch of flowers
Amongst the world of concrete
Hiding themselves in their narrow bowers
Their face was pale, bathed with dust
Their stems bowed and humble as if,
They have submitted before the modern gust
Of the new world and they are tired of it
They have many stories untold
And to listen to those there is none
They bloom, they wither away and sometimes get soldIn the market of penny by some
Yet they are happy and content
And feel indebted to the sun and the earth
For their unique endowment
And their prestigious birth
And as I looked at those coloured creatures
I was pursued by an unknown feeling
They made me rethink my manners
As I saw them dancing and singing

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