My pink cactus catches everyone`s heart, but
she hides under her petals spines of apathy.
Tiny but lovely moments I shared with her,
now hurt deep in her mere negligence and,
blossom in poems in my poetic garden.
\'I nurture and nurse \'our\' agony \'mementos\'
and they bloom in poems, to tell the world a tale
of a bird that didn\'t nest on my love tree
or the spring that has missed my garden.
My poesy, what is it other than those thorns
I \'invited\', only for them to \'prick\' my heart.
\'now, this pulsating branches\' on solitude’s veins,
pierce, deeper - into my wavering: \'mournful\' soul.\'
Nevertheless I love those fine tiny thorns,
which fetch spring in the poet’s fanciful garden.