They're all dead, every one of them
and it's painful to begin dreaming
when they're shattered and crushed
completely, each time without fail.
All I've ever known is this
agonizing cycle of hoping then
never receiving, then abandoning
every dream to wither...but still.
I look ahead and see endless
fields of irises, blue each spring;
blooming and breathing on me
a familiar, lingering fragrance.
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-inspired by Shushiki's haiku (that I love so much)
// free form that obviously lacks form + skill but I randomly wanted to try it :P
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