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The cornish dream | | Date Added: July 19, 2010 09:48:23 PM | | As I sit, as a human? I am wondering why?
It just seems to me, with a blink of an eye.
The whole plate can shift and the angle will turn!
And I’m starting to stress.
To concede, to concern.
The true way to go, to move on ahead.
Or live in a town that really is dead.
To look at the blinkered, it’s your fault that they scream.
Not in my case, not here, live the promising dream.
Perhaps it’s just patterns or tapestries life,
or maybe we are made to have troubles and strife?
But as I grow older, I tend to see more,
of hesitant steps and eyes to the floor.
What’s wrong with “good morning” or “top of the day”?
Not “Oh that’s the one He’s a Peado they say,
or he could be a muslin or Christian or Gay.”
It won’t really matter he’s funny some way!
I really do need to get out of this place,
but the weaves grab so tight,
Brigadoon? In your face.
I feel like a picture of Dorien Grey
or I’m just in the frame and have nothing to say.
I am sorry for rambles and sorry for woe,
I have to? Nip off now I really must go.
I have all the shit that life will bring.
But if you think of publishing?
Sorry to ask and I hope it’s not rash,
to ask for the payment in used bills, all cash x
Guy Edwards |
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