She was like a flower
A flower with short-life
A short-life to be lived
Not just to be survived
Always been told as
You are a flower, alive
Colourful the butterflies
Fascinating and giving
New dreams and desires
Inviting to fly with them
With those inner fires
But thorns all around
Urge her to spend life
With her killed desires
To see the world aside
But do you know what
If a flower goes leaving
To wander in the world ;
It will be squished surely
Under the feet of cruels
Or in hands of lusties
It's their destination
And she was like flower
Preferred to die in honour
Suffering on her own
A flower's destination
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