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One Hundred Days In Plague Town
One Hundred Days In Plague Town
I met a man in Plague Town
With bird’s beak and a long black coat
He carried a cane in his left hand
He spoke to me and I quote:
‘Don’t travel far from your fire son
Go runaway and hide
For Fear stalks the streets of Plague Town
Some are ill and others have died’
So I went back home as he told me
And I sat and counted the days
...Thursday 9th July 2020 5:06 pm
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This is about when you get the feeling you've got a poem forming in your mind, then you just leave it thinking it'll be no good, and later think you should have given it a chance to develop...Anyone else ever get that feeling?
A snapshot in time
Can be captured in words
Sometimes sublime
Or completely absurd
Emotion that longed
To be known, in a stance
A soul's way of sh...
Friday 16th August 2019 4:11 pm
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