The Garden

I'm going to tell you a story

About a little girl

She lived in a little house

Created a little world

She planted flowers in her garden

She sang songs of love

Her little hands would pet the animals

That visited her little cove

One day, a bad man came

His hands were rough and coarse

His blackened eyes sought evil

His heart felt no remorse

The little girl played unaware

Of this bad man's intentions

Her little voice did not cry out

When he approached her little den

"My, my, what lovely flowers!"

His voice hissed out the words

The little girl smiled merrily

"I planted them for the birds!"

"The birds seem to like them," she said

"They enjoy the scenic view

Would you like to help me

Plant one or two?"

The man grabbed the little girl's hand

And led her into the night

"Oh, I've got a better idea..."

And the girl was filled with fright

"No..." she pleaded, as things turned dark

But the bad man did not comply

The little girl was certain

That she would surely die

Suddenly, a sound filled the air

"Chirping? Flapping? Are those... birds?"

The man turned around and was greeted

With a sight that was most absurd

Dozens of birds, hundreds of birds

Heading right for his head!

The little girl smiled to herself

Knowing what this meant

The birds pecked at the man's eyes

They ripped the skin off his hands

The little girl broke free

Leaving the birds to their plan

The little girl ran to safety

And hid in her garden until daylight

When the birds returned that morning

They brought a comforting sight

The head of the man! Oh, thank goodness!

The birds chirped and sang

They buried his body in her little garden

And more flowers bloomed that spring




Poetry by Samantha Fritsky
Read 668 times
Written on 2009-05-01 at 00:21

Tags Death  Birds  Evil 

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You tell a justifiably mean fairy tale, one all pedophiles should take heed of! Loved it. Smiling at you, Tai
2009-05-01