The Flower I Never Bloomed Into

You wanted me to be one of those flowers-

bursting with exuberance and

dripping bright colors.

Pink, red or maybe yellow?

The flower that was there in every bouquet,

the one always plucked first,

the one found in gardens of houses

with pretty facades.

But I grew into a flower-

quiet and unwashed.

Growing along with the creepers

on the desolate and dilapidated frontiers.

Observing from a shy distance,

the untrue faculties of the world.

My words in a masquerade of  silence and fear.

But you never seek to appreciate, respect or understand 

my beauty. 

But how unfair,

for beauty is bestowed in every soul

and so we are told

but rarely heed. 

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