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Grey, box, flower, paper

twelve poems
twelve photos

Should we not care more
about the things
we get but didn't want?

Instead of ignoring chance
and only value
what you think you want?

Why were you sent to me?
Did I ask for you?
Did I say I wanted you?

Yet still,
Now you are here,
I am curious, I can't resist,
The temptations of
A seal, a tape.

Because things always should be

Such beauty exists
between the
broken lines

of textures
that where never
meant to be seen.

Here you are...

But with achieving destiny
you lost meaning.

Now you are just a shape.
Crawling over my desk,
almost falling down.

Clinging, defying
a little bit of gravity,
by still being seen
on top
of this platform.

Inches away from
the damnation
of a trash can.