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The rose
I laid my bare foot on that slushy meadows
wet they made my legs,
oh mine who had cried on you the previous night
Scattering the pearly tear drops into your leaves
As the morning bird has sung her saddest song
I imagined,ofcourse a girl lying
crying throughout the night, loooking into the sky
And tears rolling down ,fading her vision
i doubt ,she thought of a face,
that she lost some where in a crowd
like a rain drop fell into the river
he would have disappeared in front of her eyes
the pearly tears in her eyes
with the moonlight,i can imagine,sparkling wet rubies.
But who will crush a rose
to admire its beauty?
