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The Loneliest Living Thing

I have been at a crossroad for years Struggling past a multitude of fears And as weary as I might get I still can’t say without fret That I am the loneliest living thing. Flowers wither and die But before then they live a melancholy life They crumble underneath tiny little feet Bees steal their nectar for something good to eat So, if I were to profess That I was the loneliest living thing Flowers would gladly confess That I lie about nearly everything

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 5/30/2019 9:01:00 PM
I love this poetry. It is to me a poetic heart speaking its truth and its personal honor..
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Date: 5/23/2019 5:27:00 PM
. have a nice evening my friend.Kurtz Monia, welcome to Poetry Soup. So nice to meet you. I have never thought of flowers as being lonely. Something to poender
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Monia Kurtz
Date: 5/24/2019 7:01:00 AM
It’s nice to meet you! Thank you for replying to the poem!