BY Margueritte Mokgaetji Pitjeng, South African Currently in Veszprém Hungry

Who said flowers can’t drown in their own beauty?

Is it not vanity and comparison which built perfect beauty?

I remember passing by Vogue seeking some hope

Eventually, it came, yet not in the way we sought after it

That’s how flowers drowned in their beauty

Waking up in the morning

Scared of my wandering sleepy eyes catching sight of their secrets

Koko never hid their demeanor from me

Although she seized coming cloaked by the Sun

So, I lifted my spirit to see flowers in the morning

Watching the sun lift her manicured fingers

With such majestic power and royalty upon these petals

She glazes them with utmost tranquility

And like an orchestrated rhythm, they heed to her touch

Revealing a golden smile full of wonder

Various colors, yet all the same

They only knew one thing

These flowers knew love and tranquility at first breath.

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