When I look back on this past year,
I don't see sunflowers or daisies,
just an abandoned garden revisited,
pain, but seeds planted.
I've learned to say farewell,
so consider this goodbye
to the pain of last year
and the ghosts of years past.
I'll always remember you
in the stories I tell myself and
others,
the truth written in a black notebook
long lost.
And when the spring flowers bloom,
their petals covering the sunlit forest
floor,
I'll think of you,
just as the flowers bloom in
remembrance of winter.
I hope next year I'll look back
and see a flourishing garden,
instead of dry cracked ground
with only sprouts breaking through.
-Zero
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