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Alex B
Poems
Jun 2020
Blame
The tranquil petals of a crimson tulip
met the violent embrace of a ferocious wind.
The wind moved on
as the petals lay in a crimson pool.
Neither the wind nor the flower was to blame.
Beauty died quietly that day.
Not a word uttered. Nothing to say.
Written by
Alex B
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Sue Collins
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Fawn
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Mushroompoetry
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