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Mar 2017
Once
every beach
had our name on,
a potential place to walk
and be us
for special hours.
Slowly a tide covered those days
and no more shore for sure foot to stand,
steps gone under sea covered land;
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
unmoored,
a sun not ours anymore,
a sun not ours anymore,
a sun not ours anymore.
Simon Soane
Written by
Simon Soane  Manchester
(Manchester)   
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