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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 11

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee

Two Flowers

One flower was raised in a garden

with endless care, water and manure adequate.

Another grew up in midst of dust,

where love, light and life fail to penetrate.


The first one grew healthy and rich,

all praised its beauty.

No one in this world understood

the second one’s poverty.


The first one ornamented itself

ignoring other’s sacrifice.

The second one thought for the deprived,

hence became unwise.


The first one enjoyed up to the brim

pelf, power and position.

The second one was hung by neck till death

when first day light appeared at dawn.

© 2020 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

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