Little Flowers

Shame, shame, double shame,
Little flowers you do blame.
Blame, blame, double blame,
Do you really have no shame?


Little flowers budding, so innocent,
Heated and wilted, now beyond repair.
Watered carefully, but still can't grow,
Smiling, you don't feel or even care.


Shame, shame, play the game,
Try to guess my little name!
Name, name, saying the name,
Never again to play your game!


Wilted flowers slowly come back to life,
Whispering amongst, you are no stranger.
No longer afraid, cries are heard loud,
Little flowers blossoming, know the danger.


Chanting, one, two, three, four,
Hurry up, we are settling the score.
Counting, five, six, hurry it up,
Tossed into hell, you will be no more.


Deny, deny, forever do deny,
Free, you are never to be free.
Walls, now closing in on you,
Feel, the little flowers glee! 




Copyright © Belda J. (Lynds) Covington