Beauty (Tree speaks of its pain, when baby flower is plucked from it)

Breaking all my trust

Climbing on to me

They reach you finally

They love you

Your beauty, fragrance and taste

But forget it’s the story I lovingly narrate

They say

I am old, dead and dark

So call me an ugly scaly bark

Yes I am, because

To you I have given everything

My colour, life and spark

You sing & smile at them

As they near your stem

You are happy, they like you

They too are, that you come in due

And now, I cry a lot

But leave no spot

Even if I do

Its lost in my wrinkled lot

Who knows I am alive

And you are still my part

And I will die once you depart

After all, my little flower

I am your dear mother

Aged that I am

Can’t stop them…damn