This personal & acute pain, crater of my unpaved lane, recurring theme on which I dwell, both pauper & king of my citadel. This anguish, verse not all my own, caustic baggage taken on loan ; whispers from unbloomed flowers, distilled vapours from past lovers.

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Unbloomed flower
knows more
the value of
blommed flower.
Broken heart
knows more
the value of
unbroken heart.

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