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13737Snipping, Snapping Flowers

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  • Chris G. Vaillancourt+
    Sep 1, 2010
      Snipping, Snapping Flowers 



      I wonder all the time how the snipping, snapping flowers 
      ever manage to grow? Rushing up through the dirt of 
      their existence, raising the cheer of the newly born. 

      Other weeds attack with gusto, other opinions will 
      be presented. Grasping, grabbing hands will reach 
      like claws for solutions. They will demand and stand 
      for no resistance. They will capture every flag. 

      I wonder why the light bulbs go out when they do? I wonder 
      why the words I'm saying will never amount to anything? 

      We are all rather like that, endless whispers of promises 
      that we never have any intention of keeping. Blowing 
      smoke bubbles of deceptions we are ensured of always being. 

      Regardless of the time of day, everything always seems to 
      go on with the same sense of failure. Knotted stomach 
      muscles suggesting that the era of peace we proclaimed with 
      our social revolution was nothing more than shadow puppets 
      flickering on the empty white wall. I wonder why my tongue 
      only tastes the victory of potted plant mentalities. 

      Will we ever decide to wander out into the rain together? 
      Letting the raindrops wet our perceptive smiles as we 
      grin like melted plastic in a garbage can by the roadside. 

      Don't promise me checks and balances when the very 
      world is contrary to determined sets of standards. 

      I wonder all the time how the snipping, snapping flowers 
      ever manage to grow? Rushing up through the dirt of 
      their existence, raising the cheer of the newly born.

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