Rose have thorns

A man of sixty now
Life I led somehow
Meant only to bow
Though I have a vow

Lost my father at nine
He was a drunkard and swine
Cried not for this loss of mine
As my mother made me dine

She had no money in her hut
Wanted me to study but
I was a headache throughout
She understood I was a nut

One day I saw her body still
Consumed by flames like a hill
Tears flowed out of will
My life came to a standstill

Became a flower vendor forcibly
Handled those roses fondly
Groomed as an adept in my field slowly
Food and shelter I got nicely

Fell flat for her beauty stunning
I metaphored her to be my rose shining
Started my life with her dreaming
Only to find her nature cunning

In this situation we got a son
He grew up as his mother’s son
Fed up in life I wanted to run
Life lost its meaning and fun

Money and wealth he grabbed
Thought I was ruthlessly stabbed
Remembered my mother being dragged
Mercilessly by my drunken dad

Life is like that I realised at last
Learnt not to accuse at any cost
Became an island yet laugh from the heart
Though memories bring emotions of the past

Now I handle roses passionately
Though pricked by thorns sharply
People flock to hear my wisdom repeatedly
Appreciate thorns too in this life worldly