Generations we were of blossom;
Watered into little beautiful buxom,
Torn apart by time;
It was the world outside of chime.
My stem grew long;
Amidst the winds blew strong,
‘Spring it was!’ they said,
The new ambient not to my aid.
Winter set in; to fall others’ petals;
Frock of life vogue my sepals,
‘There I was’, a budding bud;
Dream of beauty off the mud.
Covered in white dew;
Peace, I minded a few,
No other buds bloomed;
Days of survival loomed.
Buzz of the honey bee;
Mighty sense I felt to see,
Flew in search of flower;
Hope of crowd she shower.
A new light she borne my day;
Fight of success I stay,
Chilly winds hardened my skin;
But lines of failure became thin.
Months froze time like the weather;
A fragrant garden we felt together,
Off came one day the sun;
The fight of survival I felt done.
‘Spring it was!’ self informed;
An early beauty extraordinarily formed,
More buds surfaced ending the wait;
But, I was there tall and straight.
Days went by;
Unrecognized bees swarmed; I sigh,
Wonders of memories;
Faded as just stories.
‘Summer set in’ I felt;
Lonesome crowd I dealt,
Wave of happy winds blew;
Birds and bees awed as they flew.
Smiles I shared of hearts;
But bee’s absence holed darts,
Open; I kept my hands;
But hopes turned into strands.
Should I wait for winter to set in?
Or should I dig what I’d sin?
I am a bud who bloomed in winter;
Lost in spite being a winner.
Everyday I’d bloom rather;
Fixed to the root I’m strangled harder,
Hopes high of the bee again;
Every attempt I optimize of vain.
I’ll wait as a friend;
Truth hidden before the end,
I’ll wait for the exact reason;
Ruing guilt I’ll bloom every season.
Ruing guilt I’ll bloom every season;
Ruing unknown of the reason,
I’ll wait,
I’ll bloom.
Watered into little beautiful buxom,
Torn apart by time;
It was the world outside of chime.
My stem grew long;
Amidst the winds blew strong,
‘Spring it was!’ they said,
The new ambient not to my aid.
Winter set in; to fall others’ petals;
Frock of life vogue my sepals,
‘There I was’, a budding bud;
Dream of beauty off the mud.
Covered in white dew;
Peace, I minded a few,
No other buds bloomed;
Days of survival loomed.
Buzz of the honey bee;
Mighty sense I felt to see,
Flew in search of flower;
Hope of crowd she shower.
A new light she borne my day;
Fight of success I stay,
Chilly winds hardened my skin;
But lines of failure became thin.
Months froze time like the weather;
A fragrant garden we felt together,
Off came one day the sun;
The fight of survival I felt done.
‘Spring it was!’ self informed;
An early beauty extraordinarily formed,
More buds surfaced ending the wait;
But, I was there tall and straight.
Days went by;
Unrecognized bees swarmed; I sigh,
Wonders of memories;
Faded as just stories.
‘Summer set in’ I felt;
Lonesome crowd I dealt,
Wave of happy winds blew;
Birds and bees awed as they flew.
Smiles I shared of hearts;
But bee’s absence holed darts,
Open; I kept my hands;
But hopes turned into strands.
Should I wait for winter to set in?
Or should I dig what I’d sin?
I am a bud who bloomed in winter;
Lost in spite being a winner.
Everyday I’d bloom rather;
Fixed to the root I’m strangled harder,
Hopes high of the bee again;
Every attempt I optimize of vain.
I’ll wait as a friend;
Truth hidden before the end,
I’ll wait for the exact reason;
Ruing guilt I’ll bloom every season.
Ruing guilt I’ll bloom every season;
Ruing unknown of the reason,
I’ll wait,
I’ll bloom.
