those first tulips
early to the season
pioneers of spring
the sacrifice of unborn colors--
will freeze to death before they see it
they die for living too early
for being passionate
wearing winter down
they fall in final gusts and flurries
before daybreak
then was I born
awakened to sunlit seasons
alive upon the graves of seers
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1 comment:
I thought you said this wasn't about love or death. It's totally about both. Liar!
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