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Writer's pictureMartin Wardley

Poorly state of wit (A walk)

I’ve been looking under rocks

Scraping barrels, watching clocks

I’ve been been slouching

In dark corners

While withering my stock

What felt like thirteen lifetimes

Passed right through my very veins

While my mind created fiction

Grand and fanciful refrains

I could not find the instruments

To slay these blackened thoughts

But then I found the faintest flicker

As I took me for a gentle walk



24th Aug 2022

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