till yesterday, in all glory
you stood, a glowing beauty
many would dream to possess
to their last breath
some wrote verses on your color
some sang of your velvet touch
but today as you lie
broken and unwanted
many unmindful feet
tread over you
and not one hand there is
to pick you up.
Nosheen Irfan © 2017
So true of man's life too....! There may be thousands to surround one in times of glory, but once fallen, a thousand feet might trample over and not a single hand would be stretched to lift him up! Fair weather friends.....! Reading this, I am reminded of Robert Browning's famous poem The Patriot! Beautiful write, Nosheen!
some sang of your velvet touch but today as you lie broken and unwanted many unmindful feet tread over you and not one hand there is to pick you up... true dictum. Touching write. I appreciate this poem. Thanks for sharing.
Everyone is with you when you help them but people cease to care you once you are no more needed. Appreciated this excellent poem where the flower is the metaphor.
The mortal body is sure to wither away.At one point it will mix in the earth.Those who are attracted to external beauty will discard the flower when it wilts.Have you not seen some people keeping dried rose secretly inside the pages of books because it had been gifted by a lover? Only love can see beauty beyond the skin. Thanks for this lovely poem.
Amazing photo - the salvation and apotheosis of the flower // People dazzled by the flower's showy exterior had no sense of what it truly is - an organic, growing thing which belongs in the ground, in the dirt, its natural home. It's not meant to be severed, live a few more days as a bouquet and then be discarded as trash. These people do not see the whole plant, or the whole person, or the whole issue; they divide things, people and issues into non-vital fragments. They must learn to see the big picture, the dirt, the seed, the stem, the flowers, the living whole. It's not meant to be on display as a bouquet, and then withered and colorless thrown away as trash.
Kal paoN ek kasae sar per jo aa geya, eksar wuh istakhawn shikasta se choor tha Kahne laga keh dekh ke chal rah bekhabar maiN bhi kabhoo kasoo ka sare purghuroor tha. (Mir Taqi Mir)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Amusing poem......And this torn flower has everything to say.10++++