Futile flailings

friendships that water from the outside down
nourished by my sweat in the heat
blooms who love and reap from my toil
offering nothing in return
grace me with their beauty, tempt me with the soft of their petals
grow erect and proud
and still….
and still…
boulder size wails 
roll from the hill top down
smiting every other 
note of emotion
till I’m dust
and in fear of a gust
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