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 Sep 2011 Lola N Mae
Elissa Coady
Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down
The children cry
Down their sorrows and tribulations
To a hankering disposal
With ceaseless churning and grinding
The heavy bruised weights
Under eyes drag the soul downwards
Until drifting into another world
The peaceful dark place in which
The inner ear has no control over balance.
Be still my arms, my chest, my throat—
Let not heavy eyes grow blue and sore
Let me sleep, just sleep, just sleep…

— The End —