Now with the Ides of March gone
There lies only dead leaves
Dead fruit, dead doves
And Spring flowers.
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Now with the Ides of March gone
There lies only dead leaves
Dead fruit, dead doves
And Spring flowers.
Like a child sent to his room
I’m stuck staring, blindly
thinking about what I’ve done.
Because I’m still healing, I mean
it’s really no excuse except to acknowledge how
I’m just like everyone…