The Mecca of Sprouts

The Mecca of Sprouts

Many sprouts
on the
ground

From “Van Gogh’s”
to the
common man

Each with
its own
vision

Of the
colorful
world around

You hop
around with
your little
pup

Some give
you Life,
the others
pain

You take
both as
you go

To your
own ‘Mecca’

A million
faces

And many
moments

You get
your ‘Eureka’

And the
gold in
the pot

The other
times, the
fall

Out comes
the blood

The smell
of the
red flesh

Life moves
on

From one
signpost

To the
other

Caution: This might be all theory

 

 

 

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