Frances May

Rookie (1991 / Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents)

Searching - Poem by Frances May

Tormented young souls,
Washed up in the sand,
We cannot depart
this bloodstained land.

Screaming, Scratching,
Away from the night.
Do not forsake us
wayward Moonlight.

Tormented young souls,
Washed up in the sand.
A new day breaks
it falls apart in your hand.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 12, 2008

Poem Edited: Monday, May 5, 2008


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