On life and its vagaries


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These flowers,
Can't they cease?
Why pick us for practice?

Oh please, 
Ditch the din,
Give up !

I have left my ears at home
(What use has they?)
And I can't hear a thing!
(Dumb is me)

Oh, whimper not!
Shout not insides
Your mute cries pulverizes being

Flowers should wail?
Why not gyrate,
Look pretty, and act slutty?

It's not a slur
It's to save a life

I can't survive this rosy clamor
No love-threads or hand books
Would save me from you

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