Flowers on Road

Along the path where no one goes,

Where dust and wind forever blows,

A little bloom, so bright, so fair,

Sprouted gently, unaware.

Amidst the stones and cracks it grew,

Its petals kissed by morning dew,

No gardener's hand, no careful care,

Yet it thrived with colors rare.

The passerby may pause and stare,

At beauty found in places bare,

For on the road where wheels once rolled,

A flower's story quietly told.

In silence, it will bloom and fade,

A witness to the journeys made,

Yet in its brief and fragile span,

It touches every heart and hand.

So let us see, where e’er we tread,

The little flowers—yellow, red—

That bloom along life’s dusty way,

Bringing color to the grey.