Branded in colours, the bottle shines,
Holding a garden beyond all lines.
Who made me green to blend with the greenery?
Who made me brown to call me dark?
Who made me pink and call me royal?
Who painted every leaf with its own mark?
The flowers smiled and softly said,
“We bloom in many colours, yet drink the same water.”
And the bottle whispered:
“I do not choose what I hold.
I welcome every colour without judgment.
Green, brown, pink, or purple—
All find a place within me.
Perhaps that is why I was made…
Not to divide, but to hold you all.”
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