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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Nov 2014
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The inner child dies and
we look on this life
with jaundiced eyes.
The yellowing page of old age,
where the monsters
that hide on the underside of your bed
have the same look as you,
the look of the dead.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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Sequoi devare eley
and
SOLACE
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