Dandelion

My dandelion is dry,

All the petals withered away,

The stick is broken, 

The thorns are blunt, 

There is no fragrance, 

I am faded now,

No wonder, 

And, no shelter,

Once I had a bush,

Now, I am in a garland! 

I am pale now and companionless, 

No bees wondering around me-

My place is in the bookshelf, 

But, honey, you are so humble, 

Don't forget to mumble-

You are beautiful in every way possible, 

Beauty does not lie in utility,

Sometimes withering away makes sense,

Sometimes it means rejuvenation, 

Sometimes fading away means regeneration, 

You spread a vibe of remembrance, 

That's why you are treasured, 

It does not matter if you are in a bush or garland 

or in a bouquet wrapped up, 

It does not matter whether you are grappled, 

Your existence sooth the eyes, 

Damn, you are an artwork!


©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy

Time Frame: 2023, Rokeya Hall, DU

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