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Oct 2015
"It's great to be alive,"
she said......

Then she went
and broke his heart......

A hook,
upon each line
that's thread....
Catching out
each word that's fed.

The memories
the darkness.
That seem to swallow up the night.
Fall into a broken space.
Nothing's wrong
and nothing's right.

The weight
of the unknowing,
So different,
inside every mind.
The want
of love and growing.
The hope that follows
every fight.

Swallows swoop
upon the green,
before they say
goodbye again
Wings upon the same old skies,
feathers
and an empty pen.
Peter Cullen
Written by
Peter Cullen  Clane Co.Kildare Ireland
(Clane Co.Kildare Ireland)   
397
   Ash
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