could it be the faded rose from days gone by?
his salvation, the blood of a sacrificial lamb,
crying, laughing, ruminating, palpating, silence,
never-never-never-say die
the buzzards circle,
draw tight,
let the wannabe's flounder,
rise up above the leaches that would diffuse your talent
a remnant, the consequence, closure,
the butterfly has become a caterpillar,
and a survival cocoon is made for the youth within
papa z
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