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Paul Hardwick
Poems
Jan 2012
The fly.
His eye on the moon.
Blow you mind he thought.
Where do I, think this one out.
And in the deep blue of the mind thourtcuss.
he sat down, then felt hungrey.
Sat, opened his bag.
Just as that happenmost.
The fly, happened.
Hungreymost for what it could find.
Swipe, swipe, went the hand.
And ******* in the mind.
He killed the fly.
But the fly survive, and lived anothereday.
Written by
Paul Hardwick
64/M/England
(64/M/England)
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