Dandelion

My dandelion is dry.

All the petals withered away,

The stick is broken,

There is no fragrance.

The thorns are blunt,

I am faded now.

No wonder.

And, no shelter.

Once I had a bush,

Now, I am in a garland!

I am pale now and companionless.

No bees wandering around me—

My place is on the bookshelf.

But, honey, you are so humble.

Don’t forget to mumble.

You are beautiful in every way possible.

Beauty does not lie in utility.

Sometimes withering away makes sense.

Sometimes it means rejuvenation.

Sometimes fading away means regeneration.

You spread a vibe of remembrance.

That’s why you are treasured.

It does not matter if you are in a bush or a garland.

or in a bouquet wrapped up,

It does not matter whether you are grappled.

Your existence soothes the eyes.

Damn, you are a work of art!

Time Frame: 2023, Rokeya Hall, DU

Incapable

Now you know, The permanent damage that you’ve done. They call it survival, But, I named it silence. A disease

Numbness Towards The Collective

The sadness in my eyes has numbed the empathy towards the pain of the collective. I no longer read the

Contempt for the Culture that Shaped You

In knowing you, little by little, I cannot deny, That the flaw was not in your nature but in the

Asymmetrical relationship with the cockroach

The cockroach did not know that evolution never taught humans to befriend it, And, It didn’t learn to hide. It

Blue Whale

There was an ocean within me once, It was deep,blue,wide. In that deep blue ocean- Tides shone so bright, Faith

No bond lasts long

Why don’t you believe in people anymore?! – Cause, I don’t want anyone to exploit my reason. How’s that like?!

Farheen Akter Bhuian