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Tine M N

Spring Time

Autumn-killer skies
flying in at spring
dark and wavy clouds
forcing to get through.

We always cry at times
when everything is new
blossoming and living
being born again.

At this start of year
in this blinding light
we all know the truth
of final death and despair.

At spring we get our coffins
lowered in the ground
lovers throw red flowers
haters smile and laugh.

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