A Demand
Do you demand a poem every day?
But you only flourish in May –
There is a day for Beauty,
And days without it.
But if you fail to bloom
Every spring, after noon –
There will be no days to recall,
Beauty will be lost to us all.
How unfair is to give
- so little – even if I receive
- so much – but bless my heart
Is it love or is it art?
My mind is feeble and refuses a past
That my words can outlast.
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