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May 2018
Tired, tried and tested but clearly undigested
All rolled into my life
The noise and the poise
Of a field of irrevelant prose
Blinkered splintered and unnaturally tinkered
Changing perception after time
A movement of a passing train
Mimicks my flowing existence
Rain on my fence thick and dense
Makes the world seem so dull
A gentle stroll and the howling wind
Seems somehow very fulfilling
Crickets buzzing through the thickets
Take me to my child hood lost
Ice cream cold served on a cone
Gives me a shiver of enjoyment
A child of a sinner now a lottery winner
Fills me with a sense of belief
Written by
Andrew James Shepherd  Burnage
(Burnage)   
163
 
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