Oh Mugunghwas, how do you bloom,
Your heart so pure they too assumed,
They took your joy, your sweet soft nectar,
They took your stems and leaves so tender,
They took your sun but you stayed calm,
They deowered you, oh Mugunghwas.
Your petals so white, were dripped in red,
By Japan’s men in bed,
As blood mixed in, your petals grew pink,
But to turn red, you never dare think.
The Mugunghwas lived in one tree,
And sang together for a bit of glee,
But every day, the soldiers came,
To pluck their petals with cruel foreplay.
As some did live, and many drowned,
The tree grew rotten on the dirt campground,
So the soldiers came for the last time,
And set the tree ablaze: a crime.
Irene Bae
My name is Irene Bae and I am an Asian American aspiring writer. I am currently in 11th grade and attending Harvard-Westlake School in Los Angeles.
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