The Changing Red Rose Poem by Indira Renganathan

She stands there lonely
Pretty red polite good
Awaiting to be noted
But in vain ignored

She may not know..
All good humans
Do admire and go
With no heart
To pinch her looks
Stir her pretty silence

Also all good humans
May not know..
She wants each one
Closer to her, like her
Hug and kiss her

May be her prickling ilk..
Humans and she herself
Frightened of

I'm a passerby
And a daily watcher
I read her daily
May be she too me
Vice versa I guess

Unheeded she is dull
Day by day more null
Changing herself pale
Pensive gloom tainted

Now in all urgency
I want to tell her
Not to be sad
Not to fade out

But how?
What of my diction
Does she know?
My face gestures
All consoling words
But of no use

She withers
Like a feathered bird
Hurt, pained
Atlast to vanish

Aside that road
Outside that house
On that spot there
You can find
Daily a red rose

It's me who with
Empathetic friendship
Offers to my still
Untalked friend
Though
Lady of that house
Grouches 'trespassing'