I Ask

You have torn me
You have ripped me
Why must you ruin me?
What pleasure does this,
Sick perverse act give you?
I was once a blooming, beautiful flower
Then you smashed me down hard with your boot.

My petals are crushed
My dreams perished
And what was your reason for doing,
This hateful crime? I ask
You only laugh.
I am but a flower you so knowingly plucked.

Once ripe and prosperous
Now my petals are forever stained with your taint
My very core has turned hateful and bitter
So I must ask you once more
What is so funny about my agony?