Escape
P Patti Masterman
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Nothing here shall ever forget
How flowers rot, from underneath,
And fruit, when only pierced the skin,
To the circling wasp's bequeathed.
Nothing here will gain a thing,
Though time reversed or stood it's place;
A thousand years still looks the same,
But first to go is always the face.
Man makes his dreary circlet of days,
Ever brief, though filled with fate-
And flings open wide Pandora's box,
Hoping somehow his soul will escape.
Bu şiiri puanla
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