Twelve rows of flowers
twelve in a row
the perfect nice garden
through the rain and the snow

In the third row
between the proud flowers
a small little weed
surrounded by towers

The tulips and daisies
with petals so strong
was sorry for her
she'd be gone before long

But the weed was determined
to grow and to live
determined the bloom
and do all to give

"I want to stay here
with all of my friends"
the weed knew it was coming
it was coming, her end

the gardener saw her
a weed that had bloomed
a warm dandelion
who was ever doomed

And he dug her up to die.

Have you
ever seen 
a flower cry?