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Nov 2021
I sing again,
‘Though stone conceals  
The way you laughed
The day we met.

I sing again,
‘Though stone’s defaced
Your wonky smile,
Your honey lips.

I sing again,
‘Though stone forgot
The tunes you made up
Just for fun.

You ran away
To war, they said,
Without a kiss,
A little death now etched in stone.

Memorials in stone are dead,
Ill-equipped to help or heal;
Instead of poppies, stuttered words,
Sing again.
Memorials mask the raw emotion of human loss.
Simon Piesse
Written by
Simon Piesse  44/M/London
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