By Samvritha Sudhakar
Is useless all I am,
A disturbance in the place,
Like an ugly tall creature,
Made to be removed over the days?
My heart swollen with tears,
My veins boiled with rage,
Yet they are like flowers after all,
Not like a weed, not strange
I seek to be noticed,
To be loved for once,
An internal hunger building on,
As every second runs.
My energy has worn out,
My body so frail.
Perhaps I should let go of my soul,
And go off in an eternal sail
By Samvritha Sudhakar
Beautiful poetry that expose the human nature that has become obsessed with appearance rather than appreciating the resilience.
Society as a whole has become cosmetic and utilitarian but it is encouraging to know that there is at least one person to think about the weeds despite centuries of efforts to get rid of them.. Nicely written Samvritha!
Great work Sammu 👏 👍 👌
Amazing sam!!
Its a masterpiece🌟🌟
how can u think of something like that? amazing!