The Secret Storyteller

She wished the sky was blue,

But it didn’t matter what was the hue,

Until she was free,

To spread her arms beneath it,

To touch the horizons on either sides,

While everyone tried to contain her,

To something that wasn’t her,

But, she’s wild,

Like the flowers she wears in her hair,

Fierce like the river,

She floats on,

Smooth like it’s flow,

Telling a secret which no one knows,

Hidden in wishes she sends,

“She wished the sky was blue alongwith wildflowers like you.”