A petit pink fresh flower
Fell on the roadside
Just detached from the mother tree
I thought of picking it up
On my way back
As I walked ahead
A big SUV passed me by
At the end of the lane
As I turned
I saw it backing
Into its marked zone
To park perhaps
To my utter dismay
The wheels went over
That petit pink flower lay crushed
Beneath the mother tree
Sometimes it is just too late
To behold, cherish and save
Beauty is often fragile and transient
Always ending up crushed
Under the ruthless
Wheels of the civilization
Sometimes it is too late
Most times it is too late!!
Mad Decadence 