cycle of life

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Picked thin from all the wait, all the hands that Got gnarled before they could reach out— Or, even worse, hurt somebody.   And Sydney’s wearing a dress with yellow flowers.
Shriveled to bone allow myself to ash let it rain upon me sink into the ground the soils' warmth surrounds me the roots a nurturing hold release into the stems feel the fruit
Scattered feathers and wings Litter the ground in small piles of forlorn flight Discarded plumage thrown down Melting into the grass Shifting into mud Becoming one with the ground it once defied
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