Stop gnawing on your brother’s arm!
And you stop fighting off your brother!
That’s what she told her children, and at the end
They made their own decision
At the end the locust will destroy the rose,
or we could kill it with a healthy dose
It trickles down from the petals to the stem and further down
Till we end up bathing in rose water
In the distance someone is wearing one on their lapel
His father died of cancer
No one knows why
He was outlived by his mother and buried by his bride
His mother tells the story of when he was a boy
When his little brother’s arm was his favorite chewing toy
The reaper reaps and the sower sows
Yet no one knows who’ll wear the rose
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