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We take so much for granted

from this world on which we play,

the breath inside our lungs

drawn in from a cold and windy day.


Draining the life from a world already

so drawn and stretched to it's limits,

desperately trying to imbibe

the scarcities still deep within it.

To live; to breathe; to follow time

as down the wind it sails

against all odds and obstacles,

a hidden strength prevails.

To hold on tight and stare defiantly

down deaths devouring depths

and scream, determined to tear the tears

from the foolish and inept.


To bid them, take a look around

at all that they destroy,

a living, breathing world discarded

like an old unwanted toy.


It's time to reach out and reclaim

what we cherish and hold so dear,

to offer them all protection,

no more to live in fear.


Stretch out our wings like a shield,

a storm shelter overhead

and watch the dark defilers, fall

to the terror that they once bred.

To breathe; to live another day

and watch our children flourish

instead of fighting against a tide

where one and all could perish.


Breathe sweet child,

no harm will come

to you, this much I vow.

For as long as I draw

a living breath, until then,

from here and now.



Written by Darren Scanlon, 14th May 2014

Revised 16th May 2015.

©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.





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Darren Scanlon

Sat 16th May 2015 12:23

You are most welcome my friend, glad you liked it

The One That Got Away

Sat 16th May 2015 07:23

Wow. Poets like you make me believe that good poetry isn't dead. The future generation, it seems, doesn not have to stand the nonsensical verses of overrated Wordsworth. Thank you for writing such amazing verses and inspiring young poets like myself.

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