Fragrance of innocence
More alive with murmur of birds
A lonely red flower rests
Within nests of bushes, wondering
Will bushes ever go easy on me?
Am I really safe or just captive ?
What’s my life after all?
What’s my identity
If not gazes of my admirers
Shouldn’t I risk my life
To create my own might of identity
Thoughts races fast with wind
In guard of thorny bushes,
Red flower stays numb
As sun hides in veil of clouds.