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I was asonished to find this, written in 1973 when I was just 15. Was I so serious? And how have I become so flippant?
Oh, little flower by the water,
every hour as your head bends lower
I think more and more that you and I are alike.
I think that I will give up too.
I will fold my petals as you now do.
I will settle into eternal sleep.
Then the earth can keep the remains of a life it took such pains to create.
DG (1973) aged 15
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