Grans Poem
the grey has lasted some four months now
a dull, hampering grey.
bottle it, flick the glass with your fingernail.
no chime no ring, but muffled thuds like a thousand footsteps plodding through weeds of memories.
the beige has lasted some ten years now. it’s rough carpet felt wheels, children’s sighing sleep.
hands pushing indents, the television played too late and too loud...
Friday 28th February 2025 12:51 am
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