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Benjamin Woolley
Poems
Feb 2013
Shock Box
Familiar walls,
Not even seen,
With every step of routine.
Blue eyes, now grey,
Gazing somewhere, not today.
Hollow people, hollow things,
Can almost see the space between,
Where sunny rays toss flaxen hair
And choices seem to lead somewhere.
But routine is easy,
Routine is safe.
It is only when she tries to leave
That she feels her chains.
Written by
Benjamin Woolley
Phoenix
(Phoenix)
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