The buds open
A beautiful flower blooms forth
With a luminescence
That calls to all to see
The beauty, the glow, the scent
The petals stretch their skirts
A burst of colour
So bright, so fragrant, so lovely
And then a human being comes along
Plucks the flower for his buttonhole
And thus ends our Story here
For the flower has lived, has bloomed
Has been plucked in its prime
And has become an ornament for Somebody
All that remains is to Die
Anne Varghese (c) 2004
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