Conor Young

Rookie (02/06/93 / London)

Castaway - Poem by Conor Young

Cast aside,
Left to rot in a foreign field.
Nothing but a shadow,
Stalking the Irish night.
In passion’s exile,
Rumours seep:
Strife is over,
Hope is lost.
Lover says “goodbye: ”
“Now is my time to die”

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, September 1, 2010

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