It was spring and what
a terrible spring.
Every blossom a mockery
sunny days a farce.
There will be no cheer,
not this year. Not this spring.
April flowers colorful dark,
the promise of summer.

The promise of summer,
empty ally sunshine warm with a cold smile.

It was April. Spring. A terrible spring
without smiles for flowers didn’t laugh,
the warm waft of lilacs reminding of sadness
because that is what we breathe.

 

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