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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
May 2017
From two thousand and eleven
.....had you but known..
..would you have whistled so gaily?
drooled over page three of a national daily?
too late for regrets
all bets are null as you head for the void.
There are always works in progress that's why it's so good.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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