Requiem for Willy Wonka "88"

Nip it in the bud she said,
Before it grows and blooms
As she snipped us from her thorny heart
And cut us from her womb.

She'll never see what I had planted
Nor reap what I had sown.
The garden's gone to seed, Indeed
I'm left with weeds alone.

All along I had been writing
But these poems will die unheard,
Aborted and abandoned,
Leaving but these final words

Willy Wonka's Dying
His poor heart's a chocolate mess
And what lingers on your fingers
Is not sweet but bitterness.

A torn and tattered wrapper
Enshrouds his last remains
And he glides along the gutters,
Sweetening sewers and drains.