For Another Budding Child Flower

For Another Budding Child Flower Alone in the dark uterus of my bedroom here I lie curled up in the thoughts and emotions of the day. Another budding flower was plucked from the garden street leaving its red sap as a jaded memento to stained innocence and hoodwinked justice. Another aborted life spiraled away as echoes of fading out cries floated wearily on the reefs of passing time covering awareness of another heinous crime whose guilt will soon vanish from human notice. Now with my cervical poised head on tear soaked pillow I pray God that another flower be not plucked away tomorrow.