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Home > Poetry submissions
Stabbed
The
harsh light
of
neon bar signs
holds back raw night.
While a girlfriend,
who
saw him drop 6 foot
and
12 years to mumble "Mum",
cradles a head,
watches breath come
as
the steamy puffs
of
something quenched.
Dawn.
The
warm light
of
neon bar signs
are
succeeded by a sun;
it
flushes the world of night,
but
for some,
not
darkness...
Christopher Major
Please email me if you want to contact the author. |
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