I won't be the rose,
Whom you'll pick for it's beauty,
Or for it's heady fragrance -
And discard when the petals will get dried.
Rather, I'll be your sunflower,
Obsessively dependent on the sunshine,
Blooming only at the gentle touch
Of the first rays of the sun.
Now that the monsoon has arrived in the city
With rain-clouds hovering,
Impeding the incoming rays of sun,
Your sunflower's existence is at stake.
Gasping for it's breath,
It is yearning desperately for a sliver of sunshine
To sneak through the thick clouds,
And kiss the tender petals of the sunflower.
But the persistent rains refuse to go,
Making this monsoon season longer than usual.
© 2018. Swagata Tarafdar. All rights reserved.
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