The brightest roses, are those that come with the thorns
The happiest babies cry most when they are born.
If no thorns, its not a rose
No cry? Baby needs a pill dose
The sweetest birds are shy at first,
The wildest waters do quince a blazing thirst.
If not shy, the bird must be a hawk
Bottled water can’t be found in the endless woods dark.
The best of best curd takes time to form
The most fertile soil seems filled with worms.
Made in some seconds? Its something “hybrid”
No worms? It won’t “mother” a seed.
The adventurous ship does not live at the bay
The loveliest of love grows from day to day.
Sitting at the harbor? Safe! But no use.
For and from a second? Hearts do not fuse.
The sweetest, worthiest, loveliest and the best
Are not perfect, but just right, different from the rest.
This poetry piece of mine was based on the thought that the best of things always does not come at a go.
No value of happiness until you have been sad. No worth of sweetness until have seen ill and bad!
Moreover, being the best does not stand as being the perfect, it means, “be the right one”. Doesn’t it?
So very thanks for joining me, in my paradoxical journey! Love thy presence!
Enjoying it like me? Please tell!
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