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Jun 2014
Once upon a time,
you know that old chestnut,
the routine story start,
there was a male being,
with the thickest blackest greasy hair,
a joy of eccentricity,
for a long time,
more than a smile for a while,
she kept him locked up under her hat,
the straw one that she wore,
he was beautiful and tender,
then he left.

Upon his leaving a thousand nuclear winters were born,
delivered with them winters chill,
As pair of stanchions,
together they once stood,
protecting their respective broods,
in their ways of contrition,
in the end were no happy ever afters,
but a stroke of crazy laughter,
Amen my friend!
(C) Livvi
Stanchions are upright bars supporting structures!
Olivia Kent
Written by
Olivia Kent  Southampton, Hampshire.
(Southampton, Hampshire.)   
293
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