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Poetry

Some older poems, a lifetime of masking..


Niggling ouch


Still masking

Trying to make it sound ‘better’

than it is

There’s no better, just different

Who has the right to define

the way we live?


Is that more masking?

Making out it’s all okay?

It doesn’t hurt

when the box is crushed down

and the fairytale’s falsehoods

won’t play



Who am I?


What’s masking

What’s real?

Is there such a thing as reality

in a world with thin layers

that bleed as they peel


Are rhymes a high note

Taking the truth out of the day

Because, honestly, grief constricts

of endless

The vice that, only partially, crushes

Harnessing ‘failures’ to shame





short poetry, not knowing who you are



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