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Michael John
Poems
Aug 30
i watched them..
tear it all down
one rainy afternoon
we were to be moved somewhere new..
but they could neither
shift the betrayal
(that ran too deep..)
after tradition and war
had taken their toll
(nor render hope..)
a gold fish in a bowl
not sure
free milk
to a future that sparkled
like piles of
dung..
Written by
Michael John
62/M/SPAIN
(62/M/SPAIN)
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