Member Poem

There must be someone
To decide a flower's mean
The one to lend the bees its pulp
The ones to outlast the devilish winds

Petals to get crushed a little abruptly
Some devoid of the plucker's heed
Those to tickle the eyes of the beholder
And those to stir death in someone's milk

There must be someone to choose each one
The white ones, perhaps reserved for some coffin
The cherry ones are meant to only blossom
And then, fall there and die, unattended and satin

Nor is each flower's fate same
Something perhaps is like their sins too
That's why, some still lose themselves to bear fruits
While others are being worshipped,
Resting sacredly at the almighty's foot

Published in Once Upon A Time