THE LONELY FLOWER

Don't ask me why l grow just there;
God has placed me where none would stare.
He makes me grow where no one likes
Among the nettles and the spikes.

I do my best to give the smell
That all would love to receive well.
No one would like even to try;
They just from far wave me good bye.

I thirst and hunger just to give,
But none would stretch hand to receive.
With pride and neglect they reject
What l with blood and tears collect.

Not even bees would like my place
Although all nectar they would chase.
I've cooked for them the nicest meal,
But does not have the slight appeal.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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