If only

If only flowers could,
speak their hearts.
On how they felt,
when they got cut off
from their life.
How they became lifeless,
in a fraction of a second.

Just to reflect a smile,
on a girl’s face.
Just to make her happy,
just to give a memory,
give her the measure of love.

If only flowers could speak,
love was made
over a barbaric death.
What if the fragrance
was the smell of its death.
For some flowers,
find their deathbed
in the old crisp pages,
as memories.
Dried and dusted.

If only flowers could speak,
how dying felt.
If only latex was red in color,
and humans could relate it to blood.
Only if flowers could speak.

– Karthik

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4 thoughts on “If only

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