On Sunday,
A boy stood under my window.
His smile,
White as the walls,
I was trapped behind.
‘Just one touch’,
I begged
And I found my way out.

Boy and I strolled through the park.
We talked about our interests
And I felt that spark.
Gave me a Red Flower,
Said it was his Love for me.
Gave him a White Flower,
Said it was my Purity.

Boy turned to Man
And Red Flower died.
Never had I seen hands move that fast.
Never had I felt such pain in life.
That was the night
White Flower died.

Sunday came again,
Another stood under my window.
His smile,
White as the walls,
I was trapped behind.
‘Don’t let him touch me’,
I begged
And I locked myself in.