deepundergroundpoetry.com
Untitled
The news came in
like a cold autumn rain
before the snow
It always seems to come
in threes
like some perverse triangle
encompassing you
It is only the thought of spring
that keeps us
from falling into despair
like a cold autumn rain
before the snow
It always seems to come
in threes
like some perverse triangle
encompassing you
It is only the thought of spring
that keeps us
from falling into despair
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