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Written on; 12th April 2017
Published on; 26th June 2017
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I have carried the world between these shoulder blades
Broke my bones and torn my flesh underneath its snowballing weight
The weight of an insatiable hunger so profound, the ground beneath my feet quakes
Hunger for blood, for conflict, for chaos that leaves a trail of bodies in its wake
I have carried the world between these shoulder blades
Kept my chin up to not crumble underneath its intensifying weight
Wore both the gore and glory as a bejewelled but bloody crown on my head
The earth beneath my feet still breaks but I now see the sprouts coming to life in that place
Where despite the bitter cold, the scalding heat, blood-stained hands and the broken home,
Nothing is hindering the resolve of that little seed to flourish and grow.
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Paper Stains ✔
PoetryPaper Stains; a collection of poem and prose. July 21 - #460** July 07 - #548 July 05 - #635
