Tender flowers, slender vines
Piercing thorns, conflicting signs
Blazing red, or primrose yellow
Way life greets, and tells you “hello”
Flowers wither, vines do wilt
Testing how the core is built
Is it deep, or one likes shallow?
Irrespective, life says “hello”
Lying flat, on your back
Broken soul, spirit you lack
Turn it over, dear fellow
Life still says a happy “Hello”
Can choose to be a jumping jack
Giving self, a stunning whack
Adrenaline can’t keep you mellow
Life would still be saying “hello”
Thin or fat, sober or brat
On high chair, or on mat
Need a dream that you follow
Life would continue, saying “Hello”
Liked it immensely. Poets perform the toughest job in the universe. They turn silence into eloquence ! Wish you all the best poet ! 👍👍👍👍
Thank you so much, Madam!