|A child had a wild heart,
The heart of a wild mango flower…
A child had a wild heart,
the heart of a wild mango flower!
The flower only bloomed without light,
away from scrutiny, on its own power.
As returned the binary sun,
The flower drew in, Inflicted by its judgemental burn…
It stayed hidden, a lonely prison,
awaiting the free night’s turn.
Why do you hurt me? It asked one brave day…
I burn those, whom I can’t identify,
I burn those, who refuse to sway.
Confused, the child bore, it persevered.
Bullied, depraved, made to classify,
finally, one side of the coin, it favored.
Neither he burnt in the glare,
Nor did she blossom in the night…
Because their heart changed;
the wild mango flower,
Was changed by the prejudiced side.
The man had a common heart,
the heart of a tamed mango flower.
No longer burnt by the glare,
an act too subtle to discover…
For the flower was just tamed,
It didn’t change, just hidden
For light opposed its nature,
Everything’s black or white, color was forbidden!
A time came, evolution attained,
The glare lost its binary power…
Once again rejoiced those hearts,
The hearts of the wild mango flower…
For nature, the choice wasn’t a necessary decision.
She accepted everyone, devoid of classification