You plucked each petal,
and bruised each stem.
You wanted each and every one of them.
The sepals were torn off,
and thrown in disarray.
Their blooms misshaped,
and scattered away.
Five pink lilies, sisters of spring.
The flowers left wilted,
No joy could they bring.
Oh, the horror on everyone’s face!
Found near their mother, the shattered vase.
Dripping onto their carpet,
their perfume left a stain.
Life without the Lillies—
Which culprit to blame?
No comments:
Post a Comment