Aneesha Roy

Rookie - 0 Points (23rd September,1993 / Kolkata)


Today I saw a brilliant red flower
Crushed under the wheels of a car.
It lay afterward, sprawled on the road,
Its floral entrails hideously exposed.
It lay, crushed, rended, torn, dead
And the guilty whizzed ahead without a care.
No pall of gloom was cast around,
No screams of pain were heard.
No audible whimpers sounded then.
I bent down and picked it up.
I cradled it in my fingers.
I saw a tear, a dewy tear shed for it,
Which lay like a drop of pearl on a
Crimson petal, throned aloft,
Crying in anguish for the death of art,
For the savage destruction of beauty.

Submitted: Saturday, November 02, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Unforgivable by Aneesha Roy )

Enter the verification code :

  • Gold Star - 12,690 Points Valsa George (11/29/2013 12:17:00 AM)

    The crushing wheels whizzed past, unmindful of the damage done. The silent pain died down without even a whimper! This often happens in the case of humans! Cruel are the ways of the world and it is insensitive to others' pain! A remarkable write and a10 for its disciplined diction! (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,505 Points Dinesh Nair (11/15/2013 8:42:00 AM)

    When art and beauty die the world is deprived of a culture..
    I too shed tears for the mangled flower in your poem..
    Let there be more flowers blooming. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  3. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  4. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  5. A Late Walk, Robert Frost
  6. A Minor Bird, Robert Frost
  7. To an Athlete Dying Young, Alfred Edward Housman
  8. A Poison Tree, William Blake
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  10. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Edward Housman

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

...... Read complete »


Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]