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Quiet Idealist
Poems
Sep 2014
Untitled
I paint flowers
So they do not die.
But die they do
As die all does.
In the heat of summer
Or heat of flame;
In leafy green
Or paperβs ash.
Nothing remains
Excepts remains
Of what was
Now something else.
Die they do
As die all does.
But nothing dies
Forever.
What does it mean to "die" when all the atoms that compose you are entirely recycled, living on throughout the universe forever?
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Quiet Idealist
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Tyler Durden
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