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Quiet flower blooming fresh
Rising naturally born of flesh
Without idea of “you” and “me”
Then “I” came and born a clash

Noise entered between the rows
Slowly filling gaps with snow
Ice and winter came with dawn
Now the plant is on its own

Striving for the rising Sun
Beaten down by hands of man
Holding ground for Spring will come
Hoping not to be broken down

Day by day, whispers voice
Not to fall apart is a choice
One more turn and it is Spring
With roots of joy the Flowers sing

Autor Denis Engel

Stvorili smo riječi da bi se razumijeli, sada nas glas razdvaja.

Website: http://denisengel.wix.com/writing-blog

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