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Oct 2015
There’s a grenade next door
that shouts and snores-
pulls its own pin,
leaves a blaze that it forgets by morning.
Sometimes there’s wounds that it leaves behind,
sometimes they’re mine,
but if I’m not the firing squad
I’m not taking the blame.
The fire stays low burning
it can add its own fuel
so I’ll stay low burning
and ignore the forest in flames.
I’ve tried buckets of water.
Sometimes, I’ve struck the match.
Nothing works so I only keep watching
silent, screaming, sound.
Martha O'Brien
Written by
Martha O'Brien  UK
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