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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