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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Nov 2020
Sleeping beauty
wake me when the tide has turned my
grey hairs a lighter shade,
white and laid out like a corpse
furloughed but with furrowed brow
wondering what the ***
and how did that
occur?
she says
something's in the air
and
I concur,
I used to conquer
but that was a
long time ago.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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