A Poppy in October

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Is it death we fear,
or the leaving before knowing love?

Are there that many fields of students that go missing
high up in the mountains, while following along some trail,
waging war on themselves just to learn an answer:
that loves’ greatest peak
is where we allow ourselves to let go
of the ones we most love when they need to?
Or do so many students go missing,
because they didn’t think that path could lead anywhere?

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