Their Rights...

When they exist as the fragrant flowers, The sheepish smiles from these faces, They want to touch and smell, holding the stalks, Blooming in their eyes, fast breathing in their flat chests, Keeping their naughty hands on their trembling thighs, Looks of the bulls, horses, dogs and the pretty calves, They are lifted to the air sitting on the basket, Of the hot air balloons, everyone is disciplined, Quiet and calm due to the effects of the perfumes, O! The withered petals lay silently, wondering, Why these commotions are for? They come, they see, they enjoy and they leave, As long as the fresh blooms have the newest fragrances, Who can control their animal instincts? Many age as the year’s passes by, changing their names, A few are dwarfed in emotion, looking at the young, to cause discomfort, distress and hurt…