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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Sep 17
A life like some other
Crawling out from somewhere
and again it wasn't
somewhere I hadn't been before
no windows
no door
only the sky
full of my
ancestors
watching me die,
stumbling to or
stumbling from
it doesn't matter
I stumble on
and at St Saviour's
where they try
I drink soup
Was it ever real
or did I only feel it was so?
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
69/Here and now
(69/Here and now)
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