Bad temper
The Lily of the Valley
Blossoms beautifully
Its fragance is light and fresh
But poison runs through its veins,
A dark side it surely hides
Somehow similar to this flower
Two sides are part of this girl
On her happy days,
Like a nightingale sitting on a cherry tree’s branche
She sings the greatest melodies
But When angry,
Becoming a deadly tornado
She destroys all in her path
