“It’s spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart”
Though it’s May, “my life will be forever autumn cos you’re not here”1
You’re “in these arms”2 but can’t be felt, pain severe
When dreams make love to nightmares.
The offspring cremated by morning frost.
No finger into the palm would sneak.
There’s some green on the twig.
- Jeff Wayne: War of the Worlds
- Jon Bon Jovi: In These Arms
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