Recession fucked, thanks
He used to lay bricksShow me the pattern as though i would follow in his footsteps, i didn't.
He smiled more then, laughed too, all his teeth showed, pointy and vampire like.
His hair trimmed short - crew cut
Pork pie near by with a milky coffee i always made too cold.
Days were sunnier, felt warmer too, the whole house seemed to glow with hope
Then the world changed over night and the holes came to light.
His, our whole world shattered.
We still tread on the sharp splinters of glass, navigate through rubble, suffocate in sawdust, stumble over bare brass pipes and busted boards.
We painted over that so we could carry on
If you look close enough you can still see the shell that once was, scars that live in the fine lines of their face and around dark circled eyes.
Poetry by Holly Hawgood
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Written on 2024-04-20 at 21:50
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