The Buttercup
As grasses trace a breeze across the meadow
With transient beauty, a buttercup nods approval
Shall we mourn its passing?
…….Or remember its radiant impermanence
No person built a heaven for this flower
No person imprisoned it, with their false expectations
……Or exaltations
Not born in the image of a vain glorious creator
No dusty texts foretelling its arrival,
…….Or departure
So should we love it less?
…….Or more?
This is shit (Mark MG Fricker apologises unreservedly for it)
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