one night a group of poets gathered in a musical home where a man called Scooter warned, “they will want to divide us. we can’t let them divide us.” i take a quiz online and learn that i am no superhero that a desperate thunder storm makes me run for shelter that an unspoken curveball hurts my brain i change my passwords but the unwanted still arrives i want to be who i have always been but will it upset my mother long gone? can i mother myself into knowing tulips can’t thrive from these ashes we can’t enjoy the purple speckle stem of the blood lilies and the desert rose blossoms only when the sun shines brightly nothing beautiful can bloom in hate dry land this instead, let us gather together in a musical home and listen to a man called Scooter
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