On Tuesday November 23rd
Born again,
but was never dead,
just constant sinking
arms and legs made of lead
Square One and city-centre
the wandering to and fro
memories laced with scattered birds and trees
and cookie-cutter houses
Where lives are private
-I don't intrude-
and mind my own in solitude,
The quietude busy with the clicking of computers
and open eyes in study
never quite the same...
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