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Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Letters to myself

Growth of a flower
When trying not to cower
It's harder than I thought
Should I not be sought 
While the fresh dew dries
Heats of a dry gust guise 
It's harder than I thought
Should I not be sought
Bird-songs and beauty dimmer
As scandal and silence simmer
It's harder than I thought
Should I not be sought
Off to their own time
Offended if or not a crime 
It's harder than I thought 
Should I not be sought 
Roots up-heaved so haplessly 
Above that soiled matchlessly 
It's harder than I thought
Should I not be sought 
Crumpled petals of purity diminish 
Strewn leaves of lies finish
It's harder than I thought
Should I not be sought
The Flower and its stance 
Do it not stand a chance? 

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