One Comment

  1. Posted April 11, 2024 at 2:05 pm | Permalink

    Been sent here at the point of a gun,
    In rectitude a pin drops, time stops,
    Nothing breaks but the train,
    Of thoughts that once were new,
    Cold rain put out the fire,
    Along with it any desire,
    Of coming in from the cold,
    Boy for sale going cheap,
    Only ten shillings,
    Only if your willing to take the blame,
    You know his name,
    I‘ll give you a clue ; “Bottom feeder“,
    Scraps and tokens,
    In Coventry , No words are spoken,
    All that’s left is the Silence,
    A butterfly flutters its wings,
    Causing a storm of gale force 9 ,
    Such is the still,
    Far out to sea, just me ,
    But never alone there‘s always my friend,
    Forever by my side and inside my head,
    My daily bread, but whispers,.
    Even so, nothing can break me or indeed
    the Silence.
    Anthony Mc Gann.
    9/4/24. 18.54.

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