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Handful Of Love

A garden filled with lovely red roses, I chose a white rose
I started to stare at it meticulously before light of the day goes.
I wondered how it never felt alone, never felt unwanted, never felt left out
I plucked it and its thorns cut through my skin how words do when humans shout.

Out of discomfort, that white rose fell down from my hand
That’s when I perceived the theory of human heartland.
What may distress you might content you but what you see isn’t always real
Garden of red roses depicts this world and the pain it caused was ordeal.

I expunged the tiny droplets of blood that caused the ruckus in my mind
The agony it caused wasn’t my concern, but the questions it raised whose answers I was trying to find.
The beauty of which that caught my eyes had a painful truth hidden behind
Outer beauty that overpowered the inner beauty, I truly felt blind.

The world is filled with people portraying themselves as rose and their words as thorn
Their thoughts containing ‘mentally ruining others’ and their fake actions are well adorned.
Glancing at the wound that it caused, no more distressed me
That’s how with a definite phase everything gets calmed, that a real beauty.

A quotidian personage tries to inbuilt the love it expects from distinct one
Love and gaiety doesn’t always have a happy ending with a glowing sun.
Just maybe, that heart of yours needs a little shove
But all you ought to is a handful of love.

~Saumya Puri~