Tracy WatsonBrown

Rookie - 0 Points (1968 / Wakefield)

Memoriam

The face I see is one with drained flesh
Losing form and identity;
Bones breaking through the outer parts.
Hands, knarled and stiff,
Tense, unrelaxed
And hair wrongly arranged.

Life is gone- an empty shell remains
And yet you are the man

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