Sunday 6 September 2015


I thought about the origins of a feeling of unloved
How many generations one must go back
How long it had been passed down
And how could this weed ever
be uprooted

Or would you always
forever feel unloved
no matter if all the world gave you its heartbeat
the sky and the earth
the birds and the trees
the honey and sugar
the radio the tv

the winter spring
summer and fall
the lonely ghost faraway down the hall

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