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The Last Word



When the air is clear,

Not quite as blue

And every other problem

Isn’t you,

When the demon lit

Calms the hue

And allows another point of view-

Then I’ll grind the shells

Beneath my shoe

And I’ll hope it’s not too late

And worth the wait.


Get some bin bags.

◄ My son's first love

Wolves ►


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Thu 28th Mar 2013 11:42

Thanks Harry. A great moment when a rhyme came and prevented an argument escalating.

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Harry O'Neill

Wed 27th Mar 2013 15:59

Neat apropos `nothing in particular` piece

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