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May 19
Green leaves glide in the soft wind
Like seraphs blowing kisses.
I hear April calling for a renaissance
As the cherry trees begin to bloom.

But nature’s beauty is not enough
To turn my thoughts pretty.

The breeze bites at my ankles,
Urging my blemished heart to heal.
So I rear my idle head at Venus
And spit red venom.

β€œ**** your renaissance.”
venus myth spring sun flower
Written by
Olivia  19/F
(19/F)   
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