Why is it that I get crushed everytime when the work is done,

extracting every drop of juice from my fibrous stem ,

you leave me dried and shrivelled, lying dead somewhere.




How beautiful I look while Iam alive,

swinging ,swaying in the fields,

flourishing and prospering in the green…









Soothing to eyes ,serene to feel,

freshness to experience the palpate,

long slender leaves of mine…




have you ever watched me  from the hill behind,

Iam a vast expanse of  verdancy ,

In your  brown shaded planet dying…

Or like an innocent heart squeezed 

to lose its shape….

In the organic structure of a Homo sapien!