The life of a flower is a short lived spree

Softly swaying in the breeze

The sun caressing it all around

As it happily stands in the ground

The gentle wind picked up its speed

The little flower laughed with glee

Unaware of the approaching pound

The little flower had been found

A young child, wild and free

Bent down low so he could see

The little flower in the ground

Now frozen in fear, from the boy looking down

The little flower tried to flee

As a hand was placed on its body

But the little flower was ripped from its bounds

Never again to laugh a sound