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Paul Hardwick
Poems
May 2015
Mother dear.
ThinkΒ Β there is a
militeryman in my wordrobe
I did,
I gave him a poke
he just fell in to dust
mother dear
why is my hair falling out
mother dear
why when
I try to hug you
you fall to dust in my arms
mother dear
was that noise
an atomic bomb?
Written by
Paul Hardwick
64/M/England
(64/M/England)
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