THE LITTLE CHINESE BOY

 

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He saw only eleven cycle

Of color, fragrance, form that seasons gift

Before making a goodbye nod

To this unholy world

Where tooth, nail and blood

Are sharpening and spilling

He made sure to shower his Springs

Upon those in wait

Like him with dimmed hope of life

Now those organs of him

Will live and let a few breathe

For some more Springs

Ah the light stays......

                      

Posted for Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

courtesy : Weird World @ Facebook