Treasure Island

Buddy Bee Anthony


Flower Child In Need


Organically, forever shy.
With tangled hair, that's me oh my.
Sittin in a chair that doesn't fit.
Tried to talk but could only spit
My friends, they called me Cousin It.
It's hard to be a flower child in need.
It's hard to feed the flower child in me
It's hard to believe in the flower child I could be.

Trippin over scuffed brown saddle shoes
Flippin coins I'd always lose.
My sister's read my diary.
When the girls would flirt I'd have to pee

It's hard to see the flower child in me.
It's hard to feed the flower child in need
Take heed of the flower child who
spreads their wings most lovingly

My parents prayed that I would leave
But, all I did was eat and heave
Sittin cross-eyed in my living room
Where I'd contemplate my doom and gloom.
It's hard to be a flower child
in need.
It's hard to feed a flower child indeed.
It's getting hard to free the flower in me
I do believe.

My secret crush
she turned out gay
At prom we didn't have much to say.
we watched the pretty girls dance anyway
How could my life turn out this way?

It's hard to believe the flower child in me.
It's hard to feed the flower child in need.
I shall free your flower child one day
you'll see.

They hoisted snug underwear over my head
When the girls said, 'Hi'
wished I was dead.
All the other kids'd stop gasp and stare.
You see, I didn't go much of anywhere.
It's hard to be a flower child in need.
It's hard to free a flower child indeed.
It's hard to see a flower child
not grow up to be.
a most beautiful flower
for all the world to see.







By Buddy Bee Anthony
And Melissa A. Howells

Submitted: Tuesday, June 03, 2014
Edited: Thursday, August 14, 2014

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Topic(s): poetry

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  • Colleen Courtney (6/6/2014 2:53:00 PM)

    Really like this poem. Feels more like a lyrical piece but yet still was enchanted by the read. Reminds me of the wallflower schoolgirl from years and years ago. Very nicely written piece! (Report) Reply

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