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Feb 2012
Face-paint and a checklist set,
Routine tricks and heart that beats.
Innocence pleased and wonder shared,
With coupled hands and vision blurred.

Coloured fortune masquerades,
As crinkled eyes remember well.
Lithesome youth brings light to shade,
Stifles dark and empty days.
                                        
Box and hats exaggerate,
Buttons broken call to mind.
Praise for present details found,
In simple cues and objects round.

Silence weeps in lonesome ease,
Of home and tears that shed.
Weary in his aging skin,
His mind will rest free of sin.
Conor
Written by
Conor
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