Wild Violets

He picked some wild violets,

And got down upon his knees,

But she would not have him,

She ignored all his pleas,

He brought her a bouquet,

Of her favorite clementine,

He tried his hardest,

To change her stubborn mind,

But she would not love him,

Her heart was made of stone,

And next thing he knew,

He was standing all alone,

She was gone, gone, gone,

Gone with the sweetness,

Of the wild violets.

By Naomi