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Mar 27
The sun grows warm,
so trees will bloom.
Winter crawls back to his tomb.
The leaf grows green
to now be seen.
Good riddance to the cold and gloom.
The flowers dawn
in colored dress.
So simply does their hue impress.
As Nature sings,
her beauty springs;
from such a bitter hard duress.
I’m sure you guys wanted to get more poetry from me. I have issues with social anxiety.
Written by
Jason Aull
  248
       Weeping willow, Timothy, rick and Vianne Lior
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