Berlin

There is a winter in all of us,
that no sun can illuminate from without,
whose shadows must be dispelled from within.

Spring is a dawning of thought. 

Summer is a state of mind.

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One thought on “Berlin

  1. ‘And Autumn the shrouded door, Whose magnatism draws us in’
    Hope you don’t mind, reading your poem inspired me to add a line (or two).
    I like the simple, honest insight you have achieved with this poem.

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