Sunday 27 November 2016

Hope


Separated like torn pages
curved at the edges
wilted by passing
eyes

Burning eyes
empty throats
veins tighten
pocket less coats

Reflection of someone
he used to know
where does he go
nobody knows

Imprisoned in his cell
walking through hell
whispering in voices
none would he recognise
a broken down vessel
a man in disguise 

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