The stolen flower smells same in a seller’s, child’s and a dictator’s nose,
The crushed petals carry the taste of the flower remains in the syrup,
When circumstance crushes humans and time washes away our possession,
What stays with humans?
The stolen flower smells same in a seller’s, child’s and a dictator’s nose,
The crushed petals carry the taste of the flower remains in the syrup,
When circumstance crushes humans and time washes away our possession,
What stays with humans?