Confessions
The flowers-
they do bloom today;
the smell they bring,
does drift away.
A world so filled with strife
whom shall taketh-
though not giveth life?
I-who stand and question-
to which you may or may not listen;
which thoughts shall I mention?
What may be said, to ease unnecessary tension?
to give or receive life’s lesson?
to dwell, or to write your confessions?
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