When life gives you dirt,

Grow roses.

Let each dream bury itself in mud

Caked with death and failure

But when the time is ripe,

From the seed will erupt the tiniest scope of hope

And the air, the sun and the rain

Will cling to it; just like our hands extend to grab every wisp of life possible.

Let them do their work

Maybe some of the seeds will grow into plants

Others will rest in their graves.


When life gives you dirt,

Grow roses.

Because even when they bloom

And spread like an eagle’s wings,

They will slowly wilt

But in their passing,

Every petal will still look

A fading beauty.
©Isha Malaviya.


3 thoughts on “Roses 

  1. Through the medium of this poem you have exhibited the bliss of your creativity in such a graceful way. Thanks for sharing such a lovely post! I really liked the way every word was oozing out such descriptive emotions. According to your convenience please do read some of my writings would love to know what you think about them 😊


    1. Thanks for respecting my invitation, whenever you feel like please feel free to explore any of my writings an honest feedback would be highly appreciated 😊


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s