Nature’s beauty so it’s called,
Each one perfectly flawed.
As it waits for the sun to rise,
Its beauty, never fails to entice thousand eyes.
They have thorns which may leave you sore,
But they also have petals which will always leave you to adore.
As the gates to heaven show the way,
The drops of colour start to decay.
They say flowers also weep,
When the leaves stoop low.
When the very branches that hold them,
Are now merely flakes.
Perfect? Imperfect? Or both? You may wonder.
They stand strong even through thunder.
Nature’s beauty so it’s called,
Each one perfectly flawed.
Diya you r too good
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful poetry Diya keep it up beta
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautifully penned Diya!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very well said… looking forward to the next one
LikeLiked by 1 person
Deep thoughtfulness diya
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person