Roses - Poem by chelliah pandian
Roses smell differently
When you fry them in a pan
With lot of ghee and
Little bit of sugar
May be the roses are not meant to be fried.
But every rose that blooms today
Will die tomorrow
If I were a rose
What would be my choices?
Would I rather wait for the night
To kiss me to a slow death
Or prefer a lover to kill me instantly
To make me a symbol of love?
May be I would die as a
Spice in the food of someone’ life.
May be the roses are not meant to die.
Comments about Roses by chelliah pandian
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You