One must love: the sunflower
To watch it grow,
To have it know
That it is simply, loved.
A passing glance can never do
To see its face
The eye's embrace
Of sadness in a sunrise.
Is it guilt, be it shame,
that has it sway
in cool dismay;
Sadness in a smile?
Then a fluttering Lethean shower:
Twelve he lovesmes
Eleven he lovesmenots.
Do you now have a soul,
or only a shade?
This one is my favorite, Hayden. I love it.
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