Tubes Of Paint Poem by SHALINI CHAUDHURI

The flowers are so weird
They are all different;
They are strange;
They are absolutely like us.

They didn't always says everything.
But expresses with look.
They are of varied colors;
They are immature, when first grows.

Love chose the red one;
Yellow the very friend one.
White the peace one;
And, dark one is black.

We chose different people;
Some stays just to make our memories better.
Some vanishes with the time.
Again, with some we live our life.

Flowers breaks up in dawn
Comes out lavishly with smell at night.
They says their emotions,
All with velvet strange colors.

We are all similar to flora.
Our life drenched with rain sometimes;
Again, with mellow light,
showers with bushy brightness.

Flowers are fragile;
Can be broken easily, twisted and demolished.
Each and every petals then,
crushed with little darkness and unsaid cry.

With the coming night,
We both stared up at the silvery painted sky.
To convey us, the deep secret of solitude;
An uttering purple feelings between us.