Posted in Mother, Uncategorized

Narcissus

Dresses don’t thrill me as before,
Money doesn’t matter to me,
Parents became second priority,
All I see is him every minute.

His eternal beauty amazes me,
My heart flutters at his smile,
The same is when he is otherwise,
Everything he says is funny to me.

I laugh and laugh at his tantrum,
Oh! am I becoming mad in love,
Let me not become Narcissus,
Who atlast turned into a flower!

Kavitha Patchamalai

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I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. BY ROBERT FROST