The flower boy

Would you prefer fairy tales or poetry? Dreams and visions, or pain? Would you like to be built up and given hope, or stripped down and laid bare? Let’s start you off with some pain…

the flower boy. JR Manawa.

In the deep valley where the special flowers grow
They bloom and they dance and they live
And only the little boy knows
He picks the flowers and smiles
They’re overflowing in his little arms
He turns not left nor right knowing he’s run for miles
And here he’ll be safe for hours
When he’s found he won’t say where he’s been
The special flowers drop to the floor
And his tears cannot be seen
As the petals fall and the plant begins to die
His world is starting to spin
To escape there’s nothing but for to lie
And he doesn’t know he’s so precious
And he can’t let the world taint him
There’s nothing more pure
Than the love he keeps hidden
More precious than blood or gold is what was stolen
And now only flowers for his protection.


Written by JR Manawa

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Taken somewhere in Germany, in a field, some years ago…
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