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73 Wild Flowers
For minds lost to time in an unkind world
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How can we pick the flowers
With hands bent behind our back
This blissful ignorance
Forcing us to know
Remembrance is not guaranteed
Our minds were made to forget.
Where are we when we don’t know
Repeatedly questioned confusion and pain answer
Only the flowers in our hand know hurt
As badly as the arm now breaking
Why is is breaking? We forget.
Stems sense separation from a source
When will we know we were made to forget
Everything in his image in a pew
On the street we are out of sight
Followers tithe on Sunday
Tighten the hold of god’s child on Friday
Bodies forget to render payment
For that demanded by being
Needs only some can afford
Denied we feed in uncaring rows
With people who’ve forgotten to be human
Cars pass coldly by, Steel and stone surround
Then looking out, we remember,
Where we are. Of this place. Softer.
A mind instinctive moves from hard surface
Green leads us to beauty in wild things
Flowers open at our touch
Remind us what it is to be gentle
To use care
To see value of that which is under our hand
To remember what is worth remembering
Though we were made to forget
What reliance on rules
When our very minds refuse them
What truth lies in hunger charged
What price is kindness when not given
hatred grows strong beneath Blue skies
Assess the threat of picking flowers
Assess the threat of no empathy
Assess the threat of aggression on frailty
See vulnerable flowers crush beneath boots
That won’t give them the time of day
The time of their life
Forgotten in a blossom
For a mind lost to time is not the threat
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