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About This Poem
Flowers of Aurora
they only saw black patches
not the pastels
that swirled then powdered her heart
they rode her black patches,
down granite rapids of her life
even after she escaped into
the quiet glade of afterlife
i sparred with them for eons...
pasteled auroras versus black patches
but it was useless,
because she never showed them the inside
the blues the violets the pinks...
the flowers of aurora
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