Dripping the sounds,
of endless chatter,
welcoming madness,
to calm my cry.
My state of denial,
overpowers my shame,
I'm just a flower,
picked in a field,
then blown away.
See me fly,
my colored feather,
landing on a child,
inside a sand box.
While he builds his castle,
and peeks through its windows,
raining sand,
that pours out his ears.
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