The world before my eyes

Summer grasses
along the roadside.
Blossoming wild flowers,
that fill me with longing
to see you again.
And everything in the
cry of the cicadas.
In a moment,
lung-shot batons
full of tasteless glass.
That cough dull,
an ever so dull relentless beat.
To a wolf’s cry, tearing
the butterfly’s wings.
While we hug safety,
and abandon honest
tears to own.

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