Child's Play
It isn’t that I begrudge
you taking what is yours,
for, who am I to judge
what perishes or what endures?
From dust we have sprung
and to it we shall return,
and when our song is sung
its words we will unlearn.
But why so young, so innocent
a flower you chose to pluck?
To me it seems indecent
that such a life be struck.
Perhaps it had displeased you
in a naïve and unsuspecting way.
But with you one cannot argue
that it may only have been child’s play.
Or maybe, quite the reverse,
it pleased you in excess,
and from the whole universe
this flower you chose to bless.
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