Optimism, clearly breaths
Auto-exclusivity.
Reach for winter's heavy sheath
Post the crunchy autumn leaves.
Endless summer, please evoke
Mornings late and evenings old.
Bring to me the past that was
All things home and nothing but.
I take refuge in the thought
We are nothing but a spot
Floating in a space so vast
Makes this populace seem drab
This, for me, is how I feel
And, personally,
Like simple lines
seem simple still
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