Late bloomer I am
Zoomer maybe my name
I bought a bouquet of roses and tulips
And only the roses bloomed to my surprise
Oh the tulips stay in disguise
I felt affinity to the flower rose
I thought I was pretty like the petals of rose
But I was mistaken
I was not the most ordinary
Nor I rose like a burning star
That died in the same hour.
No, I bloom only in summer glow
Like the tulips waiting for the sun to show
The beams of light to bask in the sight
I shine brighter than the diamonds light.
It is a problem to think to be a rose
When a tulip is what I am
And it’s still a pretty flower
But it doesn’t bloom for everyone
It only blooms for those
Who love it the most.
And somewhere I am like that
I don’t survive in deep conditions
I don’t live in terrible terrains
I don’t have thorns and I don’t have the beauty
Oh, the beauty of a plain rose.
My tulips are wrapped in their bulbs
Like me in some way wrapped in my potential
Caught up in cycles of deep devotion
To my art and my heart
I follow the beat of the marching drum
That is my heart
And I am mistaken to believe I bloom year round
When I’m not a rose
I am but a tulip
Locked in its potential
Of being pretty in colours
But never a rose.