With a very relentless winter flowers are late with their charming
faces but ever faithful to rise again!
They lie withered, blue violets pressed
to the ground
Trodden under foot by humanities’
boot
Leaves of green streaked with
brown
Bleed from the offender’s frown
Children’s breaths are hushed
their spirits crushed
Oh little ones, you have died only
to rise anew
Sweetly sleep in your humble tombs
until again you bloom“
Donna's Poetry Blog 