In The Orchard - Poem by raster punk
See, it is an epicenter of beauty,
an orchard of apple trees at night.
Moonlit tart fruits of immortality
shadow our inevitabilities by sight.
To taste your bushel of euphoria,
your love of freedom is my friend.
A season won't wax honey-less in utopia
where free bees have nothing to pretend.
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The Road Not Taken
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