Musing 146 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Provide the space to the new foliages
In our garden how much congested it may be,
Trees how bigger in length and breadth
Will certainly be dead or be uprooted one day,
Therefore we can not keep the garden
Under our seize on lame excuse of being too juxtaposed.
Saplings infant are very much of our seeds
And must be tolerated even born as weeds
Or with thorns for heart bleeding of generation
Since their flowers will borne too the odour of civilization.