Open Poetry #25 |
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Idea |
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sperarifraai Member
since 2003-03-06
Posts 65Ireland |
You’re the first time for anything An icon for a generation With red hands and gold eyes When you used to hang down by the station You’re the icy mist on a winters’ night Crisp and ghostly in a vast exclude In your face my heart attacks And I seize up like a dead man needing to move Sperari |
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