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This morning I Discovered A hole In my pocket And as the day Moved on The hole Got bigger And I began To wonder What I had Lost What I had Found What I had Put in my Pocket That was no longer There And what I hadn't Put in my Pocket That should Have been There So I spent The rest of the day Retracing My steps Wondering what Should have been There That had gone Until I alienated the pocket Sewed it up In my mind Pretended It had never been There In the first place And with no Pocket To poke my fingers Through I wondered What it was I should be doing With my hands And the things That had been In my pocket Had I not lost Them Until my fingers Itched And my soul Wobbled And then I Realised That there was No hole In my pocket There was no Pocket To have a hole In And I wondered What it was I was holding Onto So preciously That a hole Would allow It all To leak Out
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
The noise of life (30/12/2019)
The Aunty Phoenix (09/12/2019)
The old chair (30/11/2019)
Sunday morning (27/10/2019)
Wide open spaces (15/09/2019)
the fallen (12/09/2019)
Shooting Angels (31/08/2019)
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