The Broken Flower

She was a little flower,
Fearless and proud
She was filled with love to shower
Always the top of the crowd!

Blooming was her dream
Her abilities potrayed scope
Alas! nobody heard her that dark day, scream.
Nobody freed her from the burns given to her by that rope.

With bare hands, he pluched her,
Crushed her will and broke her down
He removed her pride with her cover,
Hardly did he even frown. .

Little did he care,
What these bruises had for her, in room
His momentary satisfaction and her fear,
He wrote for her, a life filled with darkness and doom.

She broke down,
Cursed the mother and the womb
Her agony soon drove her insane,
Her plight became her only friend on the path to her tomb.