Dread of Existence
Acorn, acorn
Do you worry
That some squirrel
Will find you to bury?
But here you lay
Upon the walk instead.
No sprouting
Or rooting
Or growth…
But dead.
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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