Written on 11.8.2018
This poem is about my friend who had a DJ Uncle. Everytime they went for gigs like weddings, he would bring me bouquets of Roses, Orchids, Sunflowers you name it. I was never a flower person until then. Now I’m obsessed. 🌻
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Today a boy gave me flowers for the fourth time.
The same boy for the nth time.
And it wasn’t the flowers that moved me,
I’m not a flower-y person you see
But that act rather
Well, the flowers too
A metaphor of beauty, virility
Of youth and cheap thrills
A symbol of time in the sense that it runs out
That I too as a flower
Will one day wither
But as a symbol of love
I’d share and spread my petals.
Bloom, blossom.
So as my friend gave me flowers
It wasn’t just a cliche for love
But rather in the sense that I am love,
If I could be that and more
If I could spread my wings, petals and thrive for the shelf-life I possess
Then when the time for me to rot comes
Truly I shall say that my fullest I lived.
So today as the flowers I received and the peck on my cheek,
I was reminded that flowers not only warm the hearts of girls, but also seek to be an eternal reminder of the time they have.
Time to bloom.
Time to attract ‘bees’
To thrive before they dry
Cause certainly we shall dry.
So I continued watering my flowers
For three days or so
Clinging helplessly to a far hope that they shall thrive for one more day
But the dry petals reminded me that my dream was far fetched, and when I threw them out,
This poem in my heart grew fiery.
Monologues 