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Canal, the end?

 


Like a wizened old man's finger my water does bend

I feel hidden; surrounded but buildings and trees

I may be murky; a vision of muddied water 

But I was once business life’s blood, an aorta

Sometimes I feel ignored by you in a changing world

My skin, occasionally massaged by gentle breeze

Then outrageous joy as a canal boat ploughs up my spine

I may be old and dreamy; in my forgotten state

But I still dream of developers before it'd too late

◄ Crack in the Curtains

Disabled of the Round Table ►

Comments

<Deleted User> (4281)

Fri 2nd May 2008 19:00

Hello, Phil

Nice Poem!

"I may be old and dreamy; in my forgotten state

But I still dream of developers before it'd too late"


Enjoyed reading- these last two lines are really giving a reader a lot of to think of.

GREAT JOB!

Warm Regards,
Zuzanna


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