My words for you resemble tiny little seeds.
Big round cheeks and a purple dress.
Blooming in the foreground,
My heart is carnations.
The ducks are floating and flying round the overflown river.
The medieval city holds crumbling buildings together.
Tourists come and bring their money
In return for a grand hotel at night time and Disney's Poland.
A splodge of orange beer stain
En-captures a man
Small and funny legged
In shadow to me.
Will I see his truth?
My struggle is accepting my lies.
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