A Hundred Thorns
April plays a foolish part,
A warm embrace that tricks the heart.
While showers promise flowers soon,
I find a hundred thorns by June.
A chaotic peace, a subtle clash,
Bright tulips turning into ash.
Where silence wins and pride prevails,
The sweetest dream of summer fails.
The morning dew drops to the past,
As everything is moving fast.
I finally untie the knot,
To treasure my own solo shot.
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