Smell like day, taste like night.
The green like steam lies in the ground as if its never been touched.
The purity seek when it dies.
But the inside is still rich.
The honey smell on the surface.
Spring flowers they don't die,
they live like no tomorrow.
They feel like no sanity I've felt.
The colors drive me crazy.
The shape calms me down.
I lie their and say spring flowers spring flowers.
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