Of all the things in this wide world
The saddest is to see
Someone who’s drunk from Friendship’s bough
Pouring acid on the tree
It was like walking through a leafy, garden lane
To the perfect, perfumed bower
When, concealed among the scented plants
You meet the ‘nightmare flower’
What is that doing here you ask?
With its dripping-poison leaves
So out of place in sublime surrounds
Manicured to please
Destiny had to play a hand
To save me from your kind
For as truly bad as you’d become
I’d surely turned as blind.