Flower Bitch

That little bitch steals my flowers,
the ones last fall for hours and hours
I planted down on aching knee.
God knows they did not come for free.

While she's walking home from school,
She thinks it keen, she thinks it cool
To pluck my pansies and some others,
To take them home for her bitch mother.

I wish she'd die at some near hour,
So from her grave I could steal HER flowers
And send her mom anonymous letters
About how she should have raised her better.