I haven’t smelled the scent of roses
But I have lived to smell the scent of smoke.
I haven’t blown kisses like these famous rich women of the US
But I have kissed my mom’s hands that moulded me to become a tree of its own roots.
I haven’t been to the sky and driven on those tarmac roads of the cities
But I have ambled on these dusty courses that are still leading to a junction road of success for me.
I haven’t lived my adult life yet,
But I have lived to bear in mind that I am an apple that flourished from my mother’s tree, and that my residue holds the same seed.