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May 1, 2013
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In some places, grasses grow
Though all the world is rotting,
Dry roots crumble under concrete bastions of sin
Still breeze through ancient tree limbs plays an ambient tune
One which one might sit and watch the world die to.

Yet in some places, grasses grow,
Small living worlds erupt in dead universal space
Old masters call it mold,
But there is no fertile land now where so many seeds could be sown.

Seasons pass and take the grass, and it will not emerge anew.
Rather more will somewhere else be seen.

In these times,
when green grass you find,
Stay and sit before its gone.
Ignore old masters blind to the times
who send you seeking hopeless ventures of the golden age.

In these times,
when green grass you find,
Stay and sit, and in your mind
the small quarter circle may,
turn the song of the breeze into a wistful summer tune
of a new world, just breathing,
ready to behold.

These last little places,
these last smiling faces,
as the old world grows old.
We will evolve to seek the dead,
But until then,
Let not those of us so lucky to have known,
forget the living.
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:iconavalanchepark:
"These last little places,
these last smiling faces,
as the old world grows old.
We will evolve to seek the dead,
But until then,
Let not those of us so lucky to have known,
forget the living. "

indeed
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:iconfelkatil:
Felkatil May 4, 2013  Hobbyist Artist
Delightfully charming to read.
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:icondirigible-quixote:
I've never cared much for poetry or free verse, but this was pleasant. Reminds me of The Road, by Cormac McCarthy - the movie, specifically.
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:iconieatedaunicorn:
IEatedAUnicorn May 2, 2013  Student Interface Designer
This is beautiful <3
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:iconepulson:
Epulson May 2, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
This thing I've read and not forgot
With words of wisdom seen at the spot
But question has arise, and not delay
This is ambigously strange, so... you OK?


I felt like rhyming :) I can use more of the above, but please keep it secret, he, he.
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:icondocwario:
heeee, vernice

Life is a duality in many ways. In this instance, there is a duality of living in the moment, absolved in the blissful details of it, and then stepping a world away, and seeing how little this moment means in the world.

So I spend a lot of time drawing ponies and making people happy, while slowly from above I see my life failing to progress. I am 25 and I still live at home. I am not making personal art and am not publicizing myself. I am working at a job with terrible growth and my student loan payments increase drastically every 2 years.

So when faces with the doomed and unconventional mortality of one's world in this overcrowded and impossible time, it's best to latch onto small spots of happiness, until the reaper truly is at your door.
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