We live in the countryside
\nIn North Vietnam
\nAway from the city
\nWhere those earthlings cram
\nInto tenement buildings high in the sky
\nAnd in wooden shacks
\nWhere we hear babies cry<\/p>\n
My name is “flower”
\nI’m a little girls pet
\nI run in her garden
\nAnd she does let<\/p>\n
Me play with her ball
\nand her skipping rope too
\nShe’s my sweet little friend
\nAnd I love her I do<\/p>\n
She brushes me sometimes
\nAnd talks to me too
\nSometimes takes pictures
\nIt’s what children do<\/p>\n
Sometimes she tells me she loves me
\nAnd I
\nTell her I love her too
\nAnd she must try<\/p>\n
Not to go out in the road
\nNot at all
\nBut stay in the garden
\nAnd come when I call<\/p>\n
So imagine the day when I called
\nHer and she
\nDid not come a running
\nAnd I couldn’t see<\/p>\n
Her waggly tail
\nAnd her big happy eyes
\nAnd hear her bark
\nWith a lot of surprise<\/p>\n
All of that day as I went about
\nI was just calling flower asking her out
\nBut she never came she was hiding somewhere
\nIn the back of a truck in a place of despair<\/p>\n
Ho Chi min ‘city
\nA bustling place
\nWith all sorts of animals
\nIt’s a disgrace
\nRusty old cages bent
\nBy the hour
\nand dogs crammed in all ways
\nIncluding young Flower<\/p>\n
And there she did wait
\nFor the trader to come
\nHer heart it was beating
\nAs loud as a drum
\nShe had been playing
\nIn the garden and she
\nWas stolen by a moron
\nWho came around to see<\/p>\n
He took her leash and
\nIn seconds was gone
\nPushed into a cage
\nAnd stolen upon
\nHis truck bound for somewhere
\nYes bound for here
\nFor the small dog shops
\nThe ones we can hear<\/p>\n
Most of the dogs
\nAre as quiet as can be
\nThey understand quickly
\nFrom noises, and they see
\nCages and cages and all sorts of yelps
\nShrieks of blue murder
\nFor nothing there helps<\/p>\n
The poor little girl
\nLooked just about everywhere
\nAlready she was at the edge of despair
\nTears in her big eyes
\nThat ran down her cheek
\nCalling her name
\nDear flower she did seek<\/p>\n
But she got no answer
\nNothing at all
\nWherever she was
\nSHe just couldn’t call<\/p>\n
Back, she was silent
\nAnd soon she knew why
\nWhen she saw her in a big pan
\nRoasted, and why<\/p>\n
Because she had been stolen
\nBy horrible men
\nWho sold her to dog tradersAnd that was when
\nSHe was manhandled crazily
\nAnd shoved in a crate
\nTill they murdered her slowly
\nAnd she knew of her fate<\/p>\n
The little girl cried
\nWhen she saw her dear flower
\nLooked terribly pained
\nFor in less than an hour<\/p>\n
SHe was boiled in a pan
\nTill her hair all fell clear
\nNaked she was and so full of fear<\/p>\n
She was beside herself
\nTears everywhere
\nSeeing her baby
\nWith all of her hair<\/p>\n
Gone and her eyes looking
\nUp to the sky
\nAnd her face looking pained
\nAs she was forced to die<\/p>\n
It was so distressing
\nThe anguish she felt
\nThe ordeal was hopeless
\nAnd so she just knelt
\nbeside her dear flower
\nAnd spoke to her she
\nWas crying so much
\nFor someone to free<\/p>\n
Her flower from this torture
\nThis agonising pain
\nSo she could play with her
\nJust play again<\/p>\n
With no real concept
\nOf death as we know
\nShe cuddled her, and kissed
\nHer
\nFor she’d loved her so<\/p>\n
but there on the dog stall
\nSHe was waiting her turn
\nTo be chopped up and deep fried
\nAll the concern<\/p>\n
Was for flower she was gone
\nSHe was dead as a stone
\nAnd the little girl knew
\nThis and just felt alone<\/p>\n
The man in the shop
\nTold her to go away
\nShe explained that this dog
\nWas her dog he did play<\/p>\n
And live in her garden
\nBut the man said to go
\nSo she went home crying
\nHow her tears did flow<\/p>\n
Flower was soon carved up
\nAnd eaten by those
\nWho have mushrooms for brains
\nAnd cows dung for toes<\/p>\n
Who have no heart or souls
\nJust shit in their ears
\nAnd who don’t understand
\nThe concept of tears<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We live in the countryside In North Vietnam Away from the city Where those earthlings cram Into tenement buildings high in the sky And in wooden shacks Where we hear babies cry My name is “flower” I’m a little girls … Continue reading