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The first of many things To make me seek the Metaphors within, A book at 17; My uncle’s death at 18 Stripping a 14 year Me bare, Ripe For a Green majick To root its souil Within this fertile decay ~ now Believing I tainted Plowing deeper in two Labyrinthine catacombs Buried deep within the shallows; Soiled Sun die A ghost. Undie- Agnosed Dead within the dirt And drowned amidst an ocean I found a bubble a mist The mud Swimming until the leaving grew Blossoms I breathed With in me;
0
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
Wandering
The first of many things To make me seek the Metaphors within, A book at 17; My uncle’s death at 18 Stripping a 14 year Me bare, Ripe For a Green majick To root its souil Within this fertile decay ~ now Believing I tainted Plowing deeper in two Labyrinthine catacombs Buried deep within the shallows; Soiled Sun die A ghost. Undie- Agnosed Dead within the dirt And drowned amidst an ocean I found a bubble a mist The mud Swimming until the leaving grew Blossoms I breathed With in me;
By John Green And Me. Thanks to “The Fault In Our Stars” And the beauty of Samsāra.
n0r
Written by
the sticks and stones
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
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