Rose

Little footprints on the floor,
Happiness knocking the door.
Red, yellow, pink and white,
Roses that shine in twilight.

She saw them first in her father’s hands,
That’s the only thing now she demands.
They both grew older by growing garden,
Rest and play after their work is done.

Roses gave her profound pleasure,
Never bothered though the thorns wounded her.
Now that she's enjoying her twenties,
A young man gave her roses forty.

Her life was filled with fragrance,
Everything was sorted and balanced.
But heart attack in the month of may,
Roses piled up in the worst way.

-Avanti Sachin Mujumale