oh my, a white flower.
pale as snow and oh so pure
that even the devils cower
is it a cure?
distaste in my mouth
how can something be so innocent
when my whole life is going south
not a sliver of thing decent
I didn't flinch
as I crush the flower with my foot
maybe I'm a Grinch
pessimistic to the root
I felt its petals grinding
turning into powder
consumed by a rage so blinding
that it makes me wonder
what have I become
...?