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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Mar 2017
Collapsing lungs
He changes his socks
but never the muse
and
wonders what's the use,
in time when the stream
reaches its destination.
He never fixates
he
always deliberates
slowly.
Things will be
they always are.
I leave well enough alone,
even in marriage
sometimes
it's good to be on your own.
There is here a limited access
no entry,
do you have a pass?
Go
be things as they are,
better by far that you know
what will be.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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