The cry of the bud

Take me to the light
Said the little bud,
Stucked beside the window pane
Swayed by the breeze!
Her twigs and branches
unable to reach out-
Her little green leaves
Unable to call out-
Her crimson hue too turned pale;
But the thorns boasted of caring for her…
In their embrace!

***

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ᱥᱳᱢᱟ ᱦᱮᱸᱵᱽᱨᱚᱢ

ᱥᱳᱢᱟ ᱦᱮᱸᱵᱽᱨᱚᱢ

ᱢᱟᱹᱱᱤᱡ ᱥᱳᱢᱟ ᱦᱮᱸᱵᱽᱨᱚᱢ ᱫᱚ ᱢᱤᱫ ᱡᱩᱣᱟᱹᱱ ᱚᱱᱚᱞᱤᱭᱟᱹ ᱠᱟᱱᱟᱭ ᱾ ᱵᱟᱹᱲᱛᱤ ᱫᱚ ᱚᱱᱚᱬᱦᱮ ᱠᱚᱭ ᱚᱞᱟ ᱾ ᱥᱟᱱᱛᱟᱲᱤ ᱥᱟᱶ-ᱥᱟᱶᱛᱮ ᱤᱝᱞᱤᱥ ᱯᱟᱹᱨᱥᱤ ᱛᱮ ᱦᱚᱸᱭ ᱚᱞ ᱜᱮᱭᱟ ᱾ ᱟᱡᱟᱜ ᱡᱟᱱᱟᱢ ᱟᱹᱛᱩ ᱫᱤᱥᱚᱢ ᱫᱚ ᱡᱷᱟᱲᱜᱽᱨᱟᱢ, ᱯᱩᱪᱷᱤᱢ ᱵᱟᱝᱞᱟ ᱯᱚᱱᱚᱛ ᱨᱮ ᱾

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