Last spring brought rubbish from the trees,
spiral twist whistling, full of bees
scented flowers jumping on the streets
like there was one who my world completes
They say we should get what we gain
Some things just cannot happen again
hidden in bush since was my heart
vage, alerted right from the start
Yet to beloved I am giving wings
to fly with their shame and sins
Yet I don't judge what do I know,
sometimes truth comes to us slow
but I won't feed pain of any kind:
does it make stronger our mind ?
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