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Nov 2014
The night goes on
it's one
the clock has struck
I tuck tightly in
pull the covers
to my chin.
There are sounds I hear
sounds I fear,
the hinge that creaks
the dripping of the tap that leaks,
ordinary in the day but in the night
they might be
monsters underneath my bed.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
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