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#shelters
Drop Drop into the deep end, new faces daily right up to the weekend, the realization of your current situation yet to set in. some are looking for retribution, others caught in eternal confusion, thinking they see the end of the path but it's just a delusion, hardly any one making moves, many of them are just goons, blue baboons. there's only a righteous few, making daily moves, which they can prove, as they get out the shelters, into a new home quite soon. so look towards the new moon, get into the groove, for you have yet to bloom, don't let the place consume you. © Try
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
Drop in Center
They huddle in the cold damp darkness grateful for the sheltering sandstone shuddering at each echoing blast a remorseless dull ache like their meagre rations eyelids shutting wrinkling between attacks seeking peace and inner sleepless solace. 'Them docks is taking a pasting.' 'Me Dad works there.' Another attack, tunnels rumble evoking century old echoes of rusty trundling drum-line wagons bearing sandstone blocks to build the docks now being blitzed blighting the night sky. The morning brings a dusty disquiet. Merseyside emerges curses soldiers on.
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
The Tunnels of Runcorn Hill