Season

There is a season for love
when the Valentinos pop out
like roses that bloom on time

There's another season for war
when battles are less charming
Where flowers and lovers die early

There is a season for silence
when the mist rises over the fields
and we can't see the onions still growing
but we can still smell
the onion paper ghosts
There is a season for forgetting

Good addition, Chandler. VII
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closed 13-3