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The Wholly Incomprehensible
There we were
all lined up, the girls
dressed like little brides,
the boys in white shirts
and ties, hands joined
in a slow shuffle towards
the wholly incomprehensible.
At that age you believe in
anything you're told
though it was not belief
that was the problem
but the penalties
for not believing that
set a horror loose
to crush our little souls.
Copyright ©
Paul Willason
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