The Past

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I decided the five-part finale will be some poems I wrote. Enjoy.

Lonely grass grows, dead
On the other side, its green
A thief in the night
Of the green on the other side
Just as plain it sees
Confused, it repeats

Alone a blossom blooms
Sheltered from the rain
An old oak stands
Rooted to its roots
The bloom watches the world
It spins on slowly by

In a crack, a weed grows
A crow tears it up
Again it grows,
Again it is destroyed
A pattern begins
Never to end

Heart's Desire, Heart's Pain {LouWebena}Unde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum