MusingsPoetry

A New Dawn

Embrangled amidst such beauty
Yet no one has come to pick a choose
Every sundown felt devastating
Every beak into her flesh
Left scars like dots in a cacography

Yet we blame the poor fruits
Who fall off their hold to the ground
Wounded and left to rot
Till their yellow turn ashes

But little does she know
Even at the fall to her struggles
She will return back to the roots
And one day grow again
It will be a new beginning

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