How do your dandelions blow?
In your field of ink flowers-
and shard-slain meadows, I breathe.
Cry, cry your April showers-
Your moons rise while I feed.
Twirl beneath the night sky, and sing-
feel your open wounds scream.
Leap into oblivion, or jump and spring-
You'll never escape this wretched dream.
Stained colors from the sun, sting your eyes-
Your heart witnesses what eyes cannot see.
Trapped in padded walls, alas your demise-
Caged forever. Never again to be set free.
Tell me again: How do your Dandelions blow? Caged forever, never to be set free. We'll never know.
We'll never know...
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