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FROM THE MULTI-POLAR MIND OF A RECOVERING EX-USER

not poetry, not purposeful, not pretending









...

Sunday, 5 December 2010

Time's Up

Through silent rooms glide long-gone faces
Mumbling ghosts in fading places
Promises turned to decay
Time's blood drips my life away.

Child lost in a mystic maze
Cries out in the thickening haze
Dreams of magic paths to Earth
A time to die, to find rebirth.

World floats round in empty space
Longs to vanish without trace
Not much more this mind can take
Time stops still - something must break.

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