Sunday, March 8, 2015

Half Written Poems. Comments

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Half Written Poems.


They lie about, half finished, like flapping fish, taken from the sea, gasping for oxygen. Half alive, half dead, I visit them at times, and tantalise them, with a word or a line. Then leave again, its cruel really, they didn’t ask, to be born. They hide in old books, phones, computers, scraps of paper.
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Tony Mushrow
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