REJECTED

Rejected and dejected,

He fell on the ground

When the King’s gardener

Let him slip away,

And admired the bouquet

His friends made.

Silently sobbing

He lay on the ground

Thinking of the princely vase

Whose comfort was gifted,

To his friends, by Fates.

Fates- who played with his existence.

Suddenly picked up,

By an innocent toddler of three-

Who rushed to his Mother

Holding this precious gift.

‘Happy birthday Ma’

Was all, the flower heard,

And knew his destiny was

Rosier than the others.

While his friends withered

In a princely corner, unnoticed,

He was a part of the purest

Relation on the Earth.

Now his friends are buried

Deep down under, soiled.

And his dried petals still find

A place in a family album.

Since that day he silently sings,

Not heard by many though,

“Some grapes might be sour, but not all,

‘Rejection’, really, is not that cold.”

-Vaisakhi Mishra