Poppy


Once, the skies were always blue
The weeds were gone
Instead sprouted blooms of poppy
Everyone lined up to see
Everyone lined up to be
A flow in the gentlest of wind
A breeze carried through a haze
Flowing without the day to day
Free as the stars seem to be
Twinkling in a night destined to a darkness
Questions were answered
Dreams were set
Yet, now the gloom is something
I will never again forget

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This Poems Story

I have been having strong bouts of depression leading me to write this poem about just that.