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andy fardell
Poems
Jan 2014
The Wakening
The wakening bore its fruits
Aches inside me still beating at these bones
Yet the bottle stays dry and my thirst
Becomes me
Why me
Surrounded in these walls
Why shout at my scream inside
A bloodied lip my only quench
Sends a shiver
There is no future when the world
Is painted black
There is no peace I fear
Only pain
Only sorrow
I breath
Written by
andy fardell
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