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Apr 2017
When the sun rises at the dawn,
hands will rise in a vain attempt to suppress a yawn.
Most will be up and about their day,
I will be wrapped in sleep dreaming of a rainy May.
For all those grave yard shift workers know,
that daylight betrays, in darkness we grow.
Ian Canavan
Written by
Ian Canavan  Galway
(Galway)   
  608
     Em MacKenzie, ryn and Hannah
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