All in one, but with their own space
With their own fragrance and
With their own charm,
Offering self to others,
For a purpose to serve.
And the life of choice began for others
Fascinated with enthusiasm
Eager to feel the ownership
They all made their choices
Some with a care and others by free will
Some with a purpose and others without
First one picked the Rose
A beautiful, enticing and alluring
While holding it tight he realized
The pinch of the thorn piercing his skin
Left with no choice now he held it
As the blood started to come out
The Rose began to spread the fragrance
His pain and suffering overtaken by the charm.
Lilly, Jasmine, Peony, Freesia, Gardenia, Lavender
Tuberose, Lilac so on and so forth picked by many
But the one that remained most favored was Rose
A rose with all its thorns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem