RefugeA Poem by John Alexander McFadyenWe don't know how lucky we are.The corrugated roof is red rusted. It is a sad place where poor people reside, with leaning windowless walls. The acid rain drips down inside in spring and floods the floors in winter. Summer brings hot, breathless, sweating heat, as parched lips pray for forgiveness and mercy. The wind howls through each gap, causing sleepless foetal postures, as the only refuge from the hunger and the fear and despair is sleep. 23/03/19 © 2019 John Alexander McFadyenAuthor's NoteReviews
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6 Reviews Added on March 23, 2019 Last Updated on March 23, 2019 AuthorJohn Alexander McFadyenBrixworth, England, United KingdomAboutWell, have a long and complicated story and started it as an autobiography on Bebo but got writer's block/memory fogging. People liked it though and kept asking for the next chapter! fools.. more..Writing
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