THE MENDING FLOWERSA Poem by Latifarough times are very hard to swallow.![]() The owl howls high above, swirling sorrows straps the soul: fly no more like a dove the blessed beats of heart beat to lull. fingers fumble through the fog of salvation, muted mouths learn to mimic pleading prayers of supplication, while the daunting demons allude to dreaded gimmicks. cry crystal tears cry cold calls of fears time teases the restlessness, steering seconds into sluggish carelessness. gallop the grinds to gasp the ease sail your sadness over seas wallop,wallop the jeering hours plow the plants of the mending flowers.
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Added on August 25, 2014Last Updated on August 25, 2014 |


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