Given inside

Flutter
Leaves
Rotting
Slowly
Near the roads
Mushroom starts to grow
Birds feel their feathers
I breathe the hallowed air
Are they waiting?

Shut
In
The crystal
Round squarely orange marble

Red
But
Nothing is that
Wrong has to be it
Grey on the other side

Bags and standing
Watching the leaves
Wind blows without a breeze
Concentrated in a pulp

Reflection my mind
Clothes that don’t fit
Trucks that have bets
Obsession with hives

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