Poem -

the cradle

and though it were the cradle
that gifted near all my breath
it also were the brutal hand
that spiralled me toward that
death
which spied me from the very
first 
i fell free from that cruel place
while all the while it crooned and
mocked
the tiny speck i was in space

M P 20/10/22

 

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Comments

author
Marion

You are very kind Greg thankyou x

Reply
author
Being Me

This is deep! Born to die, basically, all of us.

Reply
author
Marion

Yep...do we though...die....hmmmn.....thanks Tina xx

Reply
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