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The Soul and All its Sufferance


Pocket Rocket

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You sang for nothing through the quiet streets

Of London fair -

The rain came pouring, gold and cold,

So trembling past the injured and mundane.

And round the misted contours of your breath

Your sense of wonder lay in wait,

For there was love beyond the dark,

And life beneath your gentleness.

 

 

 

I dedicate this one to everyone and anyone who has taken the brave step towards building a beautiful and happy life for themselves. We'll all get there someday

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