Disappointment Poem by Mark Heathcote

Disappointment



Sometimes a seed will not grow,
removed from one earth to another is hell
never reaching the same stellar highs
from whence-it was picked:
why is this - who can tell?

You might as well ask the rains
why on earth do they fall?
why do snowflakes melt
and why the puddle into which it all collected,
later-on evaporated.

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