deepundergroundpoetry.com

You know nothing

In autumn, maybe, is hidden spring,
purple flowers under yellow leafs,
but about it, dear, you know nothing
nor broken heartedness, woes and griefs.

I'm not bad, maybe, as you think,
there is, maybe, more good in me,
but about me, dear, you know nothing
and you won't even try to see.
Written by Herc
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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