Fruit of this Earth

Mon Aug 06 2018

The fruit of this Earth is sweet and juicy,
but with what resistance do flower petals decay?
Where stems and leaves once grew tall and free,
do but dust and debris rot away?

With sweat and blood I tended to my garden.
I plowed and sowed my soul to the Earth;
thorns dotted my hands for the sake of birth.
I plucked each spur and offered a pardon.

Days fade to night and spring turns to fall, but the pick of the harvest turns brown and rots.
With sweat and blood I had tended my garden,
and with sweat and tears I mourned my garden.
Years and years; the cycle must end.

The fruit of this Earth is sweet and juicy,
but dust and debris feed nobody.
Where stems and leaves once grew tall and free,
a world with death was never for me.

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