Little bud
By Oreoluwa A
A sprout, a yawn and a little beam.
The sun kisses her face,
And with that a beautiful day awaits.
The night was dark and dim,
but tomorrow is here.
Her worries of the past,
no longer need to be feared.
Wet dew trickles on her petals.
Each moist sphere crystallises her glow.
As the earth hugs her tight,
Mother sees her beauty flow.
But…
Even beauty cannot escape what lies with all our fate.
So, day after day,
Mother carries her pain.
Night after night
she cries for her life.
Mother bears not to see another drop of despair.
So as the sun fades,
Little bud also decays.