With those soaking eyes,
She sobbed through her feeding tube.
Never again would see the skies.
Whimpered, she would be sealed for good.

Her screams would scare the birds away,
Only hornets in her tummy,
In wheat fields, both night and day,
Only death would be yummy.

Sadly, mistress Mary said:
"When you grow old,
Only then you'll be dead."