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For Southwold Old

A Poem

Two girls skipped in front of a moving car;

As we cycled down the harbour my

Youth fled with every push of the pedal.

I finally found what I was looking for from here;

And what that is,

Is leaving me at a speed I am not comfortable with.

Two girls for-sure heard a twig break beneath their feet;

I tried to find a focal point in the ever so vast sky,

And with that, I felt my life snap.

I came to find the words for the inexpressible;

I found them quickly,

But for me, to, that feeling is somewhere else.

(I’ll save those words)

Waiting to be unlocked,

And recorded,

Immortalised in verse to remind my mind of what it is.

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For Southwold Old
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