I blossom like
a sidelined weed
On the margins
of your world
Yet my petals
are bright and lovely
Only if for once
an eye is cast
The way the meadow
is beheld
For who decides
what a weed is
These lines are
created by furrows
The soil is one
deep below
So is the sky
above us
And the pollinating
breeze
Hence regardless
of what they call me
I bask in the
joy of being
2124
Delhi
23.08 hrs
22.2.24
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