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There was no need
to cast shadows past,
I was walking in their presence, dead,
of tombstones mottled grey.
Littered by the travelling
of browns ..
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Of tidal thoughts
back and forth
only the strong remain.
The others are
washed out to sea.
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A treasured island -
holding memories in exile
free from the thoughts that forget
sailing in a world, ageing;
diminishing on waves
are scribbled ..
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On a clearer note
words that choke
are better swallowed.
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If the Lordtells us how,why are theynot following you?To flog a priestis to get to the truthfor their sins.Practice what you preach.
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The problemfrom not knowingwas being blindsided,then from the transitionknowing.
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From the moment
she took to walk the aisle,
she was carried out in a casket,
that’s time for you.
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Songs from the deadnow come in box setsalong the gravestones laneat the cemetery night market.Please enquire within.No bats, hawkers, or grave diggers..
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Going through lifewithout colour,but seeing thingsin black and white.
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I wanted to live deep
but life’s pool
was too shallow,
and yet
as silent as a grave
I looked through weathered eyes.
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