Broccoli wails.
Yesterday I
was proud with my crest on,
But today some crude hand chopped off
My fertile green head; my stem uncared for
Left behind. I was pot boiling with my spicy
Companion on the frying pan. I am construed
Such a good
hearted /wanted one for Cancer cure.
Does it mean I should
dance here for sure?
Look at my
brethren, there on the plants,
Some are
getting dried, wither,
For not
being watered. For the lazy gardener
Away for short while, that is the way
The world works now.
No comments:
Post a Comment