if they make no mention
about me anywhere
i do not sulk about it
i will be cool like a bud
that sits on a pedestal
held up high and tight
by shapely green fingers
a jasmine that waits
for the right time
to unfurl its gown
and scent the world
with its latent charm
if they treat me as nothing
i do not care much about it either
i will be like the bud of a rose
that holds tight to my aspirations
despite the world of thorns
and wait till the appointed time
when i can spiral myself out of
everybody's mind, and fly away
with their hearts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Introspection from the master? Cool as a bud of weiser (Anheuser-Busch variety) straight from the refrigerator? Final stanza is brilliant John.