The Law of Flower and Weed
Some pull flowers and nurture the weed.
Some dance in the light, weaving beautiful things.
Others bask in shadow and backwater stink.
Some offer a cup and a bite to his fellow man.
Some toss away a heart like a rusty tin can.
Some quickly jump off when the engine fails.
Then hop right back on as you regain the rail.
Some die holding the cold, black hand of alone
Not a petal to be seen over their thin yellow bones.
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