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TopicShare your favourite poems.
SimpleMan
09/27/19 11:01:39 AM
#6:


Unknown titled poem by Mr. Paul Neil Milne Johnstone of Redbridge, Essex

The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.
They lay. They rotted. They turned
Around occasionally.
Bits of flesh dropped off them from
Time to time.
And sank into the pool's mire.
They also smelt a great deal.

---
Forget your lust for the rich man's gold
All that you need is in your soul
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