The Blossom and the Withered One

In the corner of a street
A flower shop facing the road
Displays the lovely, charming ones
From the common roses to unknown
With variety of each kind
In bunches, single or garlands.

The people of the town
Step in out of urgency or eagerness
In their ups & downs during the day
From the children to couples
And aged old fellows
For passion, grim or gay.

One day, while a kid stood in
Before the sight of flowers
Exploring each one in wonder
Suddenly, noticed an old fellow
Thin and feeble with bearded cheeks
Stared at him from a distance.

Smiled slowly as he looked back
And then came in weak steps
‘You are loveliest of all indeed,’
‘And you,?’ the kid asked back
Smiling again the man fingering at a board
The flowers that have withered are in no need