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but It's Time

The cock hasn't been seen in a fortnight but it's time the vagabonds have all but vacated   and the windows boarded up   don't tell me I should wait when waiting is wasting time there is thistle in my hair and the sun has burnt her mark   even coffee's stained the past looking out through the looking glass while you're looking in   senses spilt her sin alongside cracks in the concrete steam lifts off the loathsome the heated melts the day   it's about time the mocking bird dismayed lost the feel of home there's just no place left to roam

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 6/20/2018 6:27:00 AM
ooh spine chilling good... :)
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Date: 5/29/2018 3:23:00 PM
It's time to move on mocking bird, I enjoyed your poem today Tim. Thanks for sharing
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Date: 5/29/2018 3:06:00 PM
Wish I knew the deeper meaning behind these lines...intriguing, indeed. Hope all is well with you, Tim. I'm with Jan...I love your romantic writes more! ;)
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Date: 5/29/2018 2:34:00 PM
...But time for WHAT, Tim??? A very intriguing and captivating write that will need to be revisited and pondered.
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Date: 5/29/2018 2:01:00 PM
Very moody and intimate. I think one of the best pieces you've written. Fave.
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Date: 5/29/2018 1:10:00 PM
gee this is dark and deep Tim - I am more used to your romantic poems but i love the imagery and like the alliteration in 'senses split her sin' - will say nothing about not seeing the cock for 2 weeks - am sure it is crowing elsewhere lol!:-) hugs Jan xx
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Date: 5/29/2018 12:58:00 PM
Sound like and old mining with the sagebrush blown through the dusty town as you walk you see the mirage of steam out on the road.. nicely done Tim... So I'm wrong...:) hugs dear friend enjoyed reading
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