. . .

As my white flowers bloomed

I kept them alive for you.

You have never seen such flowers before-

I knew.

You have never ever felt and smelt them-

I knew.

The first white flowers you ever touch,

the first petals you ever caress,

the first scent you ever breathe in

would be mine, I knew.

Now I know-

my fresh new white flowers

have nothing to amaze you-

their smell will appear stale

 and their color dull-

 as you have known flowers

since long-

you have seen flowers that have color

you have smelled petals that hypnotize 

My little white flowers stare at me

with brimming eyes-

What do we do? -they ask,

Do we live on? Or do we die?

We dreamed of surprising him

who has never seen us before-

We yearned to mesmerize him-

who has never known us ever!

What do we do? Do we live on?

Or do we die?

They keep on asking me.

Whom will I ask?