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After writing this poem, I'm no longer depressed. Line Count: 15 |
| It is the smell of freshly mown grass that calls up echoes from my childhood. Memories, like a cacophony of crows, crash through the open all the windows of my mind bringing both laughter and tears. Tears for the wasted years of worrying about the absurdity of a hummingbird feeder filled with corn for the squirrels or the inability to clean the garage: all symbols for wasted time with people who would be happy to see me dead. Prompt phrases: open all the windows, cacophony of crows, the smell of freshly mown grass, hummingbird feeder, corn for the squirrels, clean the garage |