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Jan 2018
Perhaps the birds will carry on
singing after I am gone,
or perhaps the world unfolds
only in my lonely mind.

I’m not yet old enough to find
a good answer to this burning question,
for though my fledgling fingers
grasp facile responses,
the same doubt always plays over
in my aching head:
what if I’m looking at things all wrong?

Half awake and ruminating in bed,
cool winter wind carries through the window
that familiar morning melody that reminds me:
stop;
listen to life’s song!
Pádraig Ó Dálaigh
Written by
Pádraig Ó Dálaigh  28/M/Paris
(28/M/Paris)   
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