How many of us think/have thought at one point of time, parents interfering so much, now i'm big enough, NOW don't disturb me,...on and on. Okay, me too, but there's another point of view, our parents themselves. A tribute, to their cause to protect, groom, us, which which we deny them respect in return. Met a flower, a few days old, hunched in a bunch of marigolds. Seen it appear just a small time back, walked upto it, a friendly talk. Said the blossom: "I aint a bud, small I may be, I aint a dud. Look at me I smell so good, so sweet, in terms of likelihood." "But the tree that holds me down, does'nt let me move, farsaken, forlorn. In time I'll be a bloom, they say, my world, it seems, so far away." "But the tree that holds me here, in rains and storms, always sincere. Never laid me aside, for all mistakes, nor let me fall, that for my sake; No man could walk over me, trudge me, upset me, lower me. And they set me high, to not be taken, to see the sun, the 'me' awaken." "And the tree that holds me high, be my world, but not my sigh. Yours I am, and not I complain, And in other life, I want you again."