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Mr Shankley
Poems
Jan 2019
Chains of the past
I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.
Written by
Mr Shankley
21/M/Great Britain
(21/M/Great Britain)
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