Perfume

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I remember a time
Not all that many years ago,
When innocence ran
Through angelica fields
And trust
Was a pristine daisy chain -
We were blinded
By the sweet perfume
And now, what's left?
Withered, thorny stalks,
And faded petals scattering
In fear of the wind -
Smiles hardened
Like the frost-bitten ground,
Carefree spirits embittered,
Hopes standing wilted
In a cloudy crystal vase.

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