Tom Squires

O Lost - Poem by Tom Squires

They had finally,

Found the money.

In blank cold,

Secret stares.

listless and fragrant,

From the turning,

Of the fresh,

New earth.

This was so,

They wouldn't.

Have to change,

Any more lost,

Benevolent caretakers.

Of the dream's,

Pure and silent flight.

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Topic(s) of this poem: unrest

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 8, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 27, 2016

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