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Who That Drifts

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The petal droops and dries,
Shrinks and flutters away.
Bought on a cold word,
Caught on a lost breeze.
Unsure of the winds
Drifting.

Severed from its only home
Unwanted in its quiet rage.
Drowning in a whirl pool
Of its own poisonous thoughts.
All fade to fade
Nothing, but fade to fade,
A mourning cascade.

Shameful peeks…
Quickly overturned by the pride
Of those who’ve seen
Shock of the old renegade!
The luscious war-cry red
Of the bursting clout-caller
Faded to…
The tired grey-pinks
of the papery fallen?
Skies numb the clouds,
Wary of this strange contagion.

Times wears on
Jerking awake when it lands.
All the same here.
Sharp, heady,
Shrunken, shriveled, crinkled
Alone.
Mislaid in a large world
Bought on a cold word
Caught on a lost breeze.

‘Everlasting freedom.’ The spite of the word
Given in the final passage – oh,
And now? ‘Everlasting regret.’
Here it will rot, alone.
Here it will smolder, alone.

Bought on a cold word.
Caught on a lost breeze.
Loneliness, the tormentor
Of the one that drifts.




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