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Thomas Alan
Poems
Jul 2016
A Hundred
I met you at one
when you poured me some wine.
You followed me to bed
and you made yourself mine.
A hand placed on your knee,
ran a shiver up your spine.
You're doing over a hundred,
but you can't go back in time.
Written by
Thomas Alan
M/Newcastle, UK
(M/Newcastle, UK)
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