London Poem: Day 247

21 April

Half way around
And a quiet folding
Sort of speech,
What is grand and smart
Is decided by the other side.
Here are lines,
Drawn, two by two,
To certain thoughts suspended,
Though messy, in truth.
Nothing comes out how you wish,
But that doesn’t erase
What is said,
So say it softly.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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