March is here
And all the pretty flowers,
Will spring and bloom.
To where the road is,
And almost everywhere around.
Pretty in all shades and shapes.
But the wild rose,
White and almost everywhere,
Is not pretty enough,
To get noticed.
It is almost everywhere,
All time of the year to care.
But, sometimes that wild rose,
Needs a little love,
A little appreciation,
Not for the beauty,
But simply for existing.
Cause the wild rose decorates all the paths.
That Wild Rose is me,
That Wild Rose is you,
That Wild Rose is us,
Somewhere in the crowd.
Existing quietly, among the seasonal,
Showers of our life.
By Charu Moni
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