The Autumn Flower.

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There are two parts to this post. Blog and Poem READ.

Never be disappointed in what not happened. Be satisfied with what happened by seeing the good of all the things unfolded in the given time. The difference between people of the 80s and the sprouting generation born in the 90s is the latter generation wants everything to happen fast, even growth girls want silicon boobs, boys wants penis enlargement pills, young mom wants neighbors husband, young dad wants neighbors wife, for some its all complicated as they want both neighboring husband and wife. The toddler crawling around looks at all this and shakes head and in mind asks…

“Why the hell did you morons became the reason for me being here?”

He will never get the answer, so he just crawls away after the ladybug that runs away not to end up with undigested cream and baby-soup in his stomach.

As for the generation sprouted out in the 70s and 80s they have heard, seen and known the manual world. In those days, as kids we used to go out and hang out together. If we go and put hands on the shoulder of another kid no one called us gay. In those days kids enjoyed making toys out of trash and sleep with a smile dreaming about what next he/she should make. It’s just that we over achieved in so little time the generation that came after that don’t need to do anything. They need to sit on a couch and play the video game and all the wrongs comes out of it, blame the past generations. Life is simple isn’t it? Nope. That’s it.

The Autumn Flower.

Bloom O flower bloom,
Into my heart bloom,
Silence all around us crawl,
And petal by petal opened,
Seeing the morning of fall,
And the falling dew she caught.

Summer and spring into history faded,
Winter took the armor of Northern wind to lash,
In between like an odd man in the pack fall came,
Filled colors, kissed many warm cheeks,
Dropped the honey in the heart of the flowers,
Brought the morning dew with moonlight filled.

Oh’ blinked my eyes not even once,
As carefully watched even the last petal unfold,
What care I gave and let the plant grow and flower,
And what wonderful beauty in front of my eyes I see.

Then in mind a little whisper I heard,
“Oh’ in the world a lot of things you see and hear,
In this world beauty in strange ways you will see,
None is yours to own for in your hands the flower will die,
And will rot and perish into stinking corpse,
Let the flower hold up her beauty for the world to see,
And their enjoyment as happiness you take in peace”.

No more arguments to my conscience I made,
As slowly away from the pretty flower I fade,
A sight I may not see in full bloom another time,
But the spirit of her beauty and the love I felt,
Forever in my soul like a star will shine and stay.

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