I picked a flower...

Ik heb vandaag 1 bloemetje geplukt, en dat is iets wat ik nooit doe. Ik hou er niet van. Ik koop dan ook nooit bloemen omdat je naar iets kijkt wat dood staat te gaan.. Vandaag dus als hoge uitzondering.. om jullie daar ook eens bij stil te laten staan, onderstaand gedicht .. I picked a flower from a bush And I loved it so Put it in a vase next to my bed But how was I to know That the flower cried for its bush That the bush cried for its flower But how was I to know That the flower would die in an hour The flower withered away And I put it inside my book Because I loved the flower so But how was I to know That the flower gasped for breath That it was facing death But how was I to know That the flower so badly wanted to go And I kept the flower close to me So that every day I could see But how was I know That the flower that I had loved so Had always hated me That there was pain I couln't see And how was I to know? Poem by Shobhita Singh www.reflectionsfromwithin.com