for all of us

for those who yell at the rain
i have a bouquet of tulips

for those who roar when it snows
here are some fresh roasted almonds

for you, when you point with your finger –
chocolate, wine and sweet apples

for you and your disdainful stare –
sit down, i’ll massage your cold toes

for me, who forgets to just cuddle:
this song from a bird on the roof

for me, tasting bitterness when i wake up
a buttercup.

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