Ficly

Stolen Conscience

I could make a case
For the center space

But I enter
From the perimeter
Burrowing like a splinter

Icicle barren
In the heart of winter
Carry me to springtime caring

Through warm scents,
Sweet sentiments,
Elements of eloquence

Sense an environment
Of enhanced relevance,
See the entrance to consequence
In this unplanned, practically unmanned,
Bandit of a silly conscience—
I steal them with one hand
And deposit their seeds within the land.

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