And I choose,
not to be a stem cut flower,
displayed in the vase,
adored by every passer-by,
only till the petals retain,
The temporary beauty,
discarded the third day,
For fading away.
I choose to be a tree,
standing tall,
with roots growing deeper,
enduring storms,
dropping the dead leaves,
making way for new ones,
I choose,
not beauty but strength,
not delicacy but power.
I choose.
~Jasleen (the.winged.soul)