The Wilted Plant
Alone it stood,
In isolation;
Waiting for someone,
To rescue it
From desolation.
The scorching heat,
Made it look parched;
Still no one came;
The thought,
Never sparked.
Nourishment was,
A far cry;
Water alone,
Would have made it high;
If only
Had been given a try.
No mercy showers,
No droplets of affection,
No signs of love,
No care or concern.
Still it stood,
Till the time it could;
Dying a slow death,
Without any regret.
Such was,
The sad plight
Of the wilted plant;
Shrivelled and cramped,
Was its stance.
In isolation;
Waiting for someone,
To rescue it
From desolation.
The scorching heat,
Made it look parched;
Still no one came;
The thought,
Never sparked.
Nourishment was,
A far cry;
Water alone,
Would have made it high;
If only
Had been given a try.
No mercy showers,
No droplets of affection,
No signs of love,
No care or concern.
Still it stood,
Till the time it could;
Dying a slow death,
Without any regret.
Such was,
The sad plight
Of the wilted plant;
Shrivelled and cramped,
Was its stance.
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