when that daylight hit us again (inspired by Gareth Writer-Davies' Junk poem)

them rattling dirty hours

when

night melted away

and

the sun boiled up

 

and we were

there

inside

ripped

torn

straight off the

bone

 

them days were

hard

but essential

deadly but

so on fire

 

them days were

slow and

vicious

new and

easy

 

we were doing something

inevitable

reaching out from

our mad youth

 

and we might not have

made it

we might not have

escaped

 

as the daylight

searched for us

pulled us

free

 

them days burnt

left scars

but

I won’t

miss them

 

I won’t

regret

a thing

◄ The End of my Soul on Saturday Nights

The Agony of the Flame ►

Comments

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Gareth Writer-Davies

Tue 29th Mar 2011 21:10

Oy!!
But seriously, thanks for using my poem as a springboard and thanks for your supercharged comments : )
"The sun boiled up"
"We were doing something/inevitable"
Great lines, nice poem

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melanie coady

Tue 29th Mar 2011 20:31

brilliant sweety xx loved it

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Dave Morgan

Mon 28th Mar 2011 22:11

great powerful direct imagery and emotion.

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