>"No More Jonquils" We Write Poems #46-Street Art Poem

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                      Art by RONE                         
Blood stain’s weeping caresses my face,
jonquils no longer grow in clusters,
I’ve lost my view of white picket fences only
to be left with chain link enclosures crowning me
As the sun goes down in its dubious fashion
I’ve turned a pallid white, all colour is gone,
my hair picks up highlights of day and
sends them back to a bluish sky without
birds of tendency I once knew
Red surrounds me and I take in the anger
only to cry it out so all the world may see
my lonesome misery painted on this wall

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