Gorilla in the jungles
of my heart.
Kujira in the oceans
Of my soul.
Green leaves on a stem.
Soon to be plucked.
dried. grinded.
Our warm cup of tea.
And I remember,
that was a good day.
Today, I am pressed.
We searched for
wines of gladness.
But it’s vinegar.
From past, present,
how does one stay whole,
When future threatens,
tearing you apart?
Godzilla.
Thank you 🙏
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Im sure the distillers of Yamakasi will definitely commission a research after you reduced the taste to that of vinegar.
Yet in a sad and depressive state even the most expensive whiskey can taste like any other.
These three score plus ten years are shaped by our past, as long as we forgive; there is no tresspass in remembering
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Nice post ✍️
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