A Dying Flower

A Dying Flower

A dying flower
Thrown in the bin
After been adored
Cherished and grinned
A gift to the loved
A symbol of win
After being plucked
Away from its kin

Blooming on the tree
Swaying with the wind
A thousand petals
Growing out of the rind
Inside the little bud
To the branch pinned
By the gentle river
On the outskirts of Sindh

And yet it was a dying flower
Being thrown in the bin
Just like that
Taken for a spin
Loved and adored
Until the break-in
Now shriveling away
Replaced by its twin!

6 responses to “A Dying Flower”

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