Why be so obscure
Why hide in the burning bush
Why leave wood-chips of existence
Why leave vacuum-packed slices of flesh on the shelf
Why stare with one eye from the crack of a door
For blood leaves as one from the wound with only a scream
Now the police line have to carefully examine the whole field
Turning over pebbles with a biro looking for dead hairs
Finding decayed plastic food wrappers
The rusty pocket-watch of the old farmer
There’s hardly enough evidence to satisfy an archaeologist
Someone must have died here
But they’ll never know who
I have read a couple of your posts with poems and I really like them. I think they are quite good, different 🙂
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Thank you Olga. I was just thinking about how blogging has allowed me to improve and grow, its worth the effort so keep going
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You are welcome. And thank “you”. I mean it when I say they sound good to me.
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Thank you. Even though my blog does well I don’t get a huge amount of feedback, and it gets confusing for me as to what people like or think etc. Thank you again
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Sometimes I don’t know what to say when I like something, but you know? I’ll try to do my best every other then, because I understand what mean. Thank you :))
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You’re welcome. I think I can understand.
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