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May 2014
Your lips will shake
Under the weight
Of one thousand promises,
As you set the start
To the funeral march
Of all yesterday’s returns.

I have forgotten how
To value the pound,
Above that of human life.
And all I think
Is of tyre swings,
And memories of doubt.

This time will pass
Over crooked paths,
We’ll share oxygen again.
I’d lost my soul,
Then learned to crawl
Past statues of better men.
c
Edward Coles
Written by
Edward Coles  26/M/Hat Yai, Thailand
(26/M/Hat Yai, Thailand)   
386
   NuurSeraph
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