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It's a beautiful evening.
That metallic roar on my,
Forensic highway is just,
The tip of the ice-burg that,
My boat crashed into all those,
Months ago. And that subtle,
Smell of stolen takeaways,
Takes me away to a place,
My mother lets me stay and,
I still call it home because,
Home is where the heart is and,
My heart was left in a place,
Near the sea and a place that,
You and me hide when winter's,
Wrath punches us through the cage,
Of rage we found down in old,
Badger wood. So Geoffrey is,
waiting with a baby that,
I've never seen on this or,
Any other sunday when,
The leaves entrap my will to,
Live and oh if I could I'd,
Interrupt this contra-flow,
Don't you know this season at,
It's most beautiful is an,
Assassin and I'm alone,
As I write a poem on,
My walk home.
Oh how my lexis flows.
- Title: New Milton
- Artist: Sunafire
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Description:
It's amazing how inspiration comes when you least expect it.
Pick your favourite line and tell me what you think it means :) Prize to the most creative. - Date: 10/12/2009
- Tags: walking waiting home travel
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