If, Miss, as you said,
sad people like poetry
and the happy find themselves in songs,
in what ground shall I stand?
Where does one belong
if their heart is awoken by a sound
and mostly if the world seems wrong
in a rhyme feels found?
Which, I wonder,
before my final death
shall remind me of forever
giving me one last breath?
What are you
if notes help you sleep
and old verses show you
the hope you have and must keep?
23/04/2017
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