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Gardening By The Elevated

Let dreams arise and keep them afloat.
Nothing's sadder than demise of hope.

Seeds matter, and so we search for the good ones.
Rather be a flower follower with patience for impatiens
than have the world's rush hour overpower our needs.

As for the bulbs of our spiritual holes,
seems world has no time, but more than enough
for weeds.
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Sunday, March 10, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: homelessness,hope
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