Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Oldish Young one

Words are bigger than you young one,
You excrete selfish poetry,
Now
you've had that time,
and probably then a bit of some.

You were always never alone,
these friends,
Words
consumed your own.

Man's holocaust is nowhere near to done,
We can close my eyes,
but
can never conjure what we 'Won' 

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