101 partes Concluida The words
The petals
On a flower that
Thrives by appearance
Is only
Will merely
Be a flimsy
Taste of what's inside
Why price
By the eyes
The symmetry
Of flawed beauty
As though
As most
Are weighed by
Thoughtless ideals
For those
Four arrows
A small compass
Drifting among lost stars
There is
Much more
Than the words
Sprinkled on the outside.
~
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