Poetry Blog by Greg Were

On the Seventh Watch

On the Seventh Watch:


A little after midnight, I was told to watch from 3,

The darkest hour looming, don’t why it fell to me.

And I was blurry eyed, like other souls,

Whose hearts somehow had all been lost.


Hold your ground, won’t you hold your ground,

Hold it while the Angel’s draw their lots,

Defined by everything that I am not

On the Seventh Watch



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Funerals for old men

In a cold cream brick chapel,

That should've never been built,

Was buried a man who was ill understood.

Redeemed in the minutes just before he had died

Look away now, this is not where he lies.


The truth can be found deep in the woods,

Beyond the dampest and darkest of familial 'shoulds'

It's sound slithers, and wrenches and wriggles so fine,

To open the door to this s...

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