When Flowers Fade

In wholesome innocence, the child Draws pictures in the sand with her painted nail. The sand, red like the blood Flowing in her hand Now shows a picture of a flower With pretty petals, and sweet as candy. Beautiful girl, sweet as candy Is still innocent as a child. But dainty, delicate flower Meets a calloused will, hard as nails, Feels the back of a hand. A hand now stained with blood. All the while, down flows the blood. The pain is swallowed silently like candy Melting in the hand Of the once-so-innocent child. Dirt and soot is now found under the nails Of the slowly wilting flower. No life is still in the flower, And across the floor flows its blood. Pinned upon a cross with caustic nails, She decides she is too grown for candy. Her mind, she says, is no longer a child’s. Now, they put money in her hand. She feels a rough hand. “Loving” now, but still damaging the flower. Still taking the innocence of a child. And as it happens, her mind’s blood Is spilled again, and is sweet to his ear like candy, Then hung out to dry by a loveless nail. It’s such a shame she’s pierced with this nail. So shameful she’s been touched and hit by hands All her life. Tasted like candy And marveled at like a cute flower. So shameful that he spilled her blood. So shameful her mind is no longer a child’s. Her hands receive the nails for the last time. This child takes death like candy. Broken flowers smell of blood.