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White Lies: Bad Friday April 10, 2009

Posted by Phil Groom in Poetry.
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White lies the snow
but red runs the flow
of the blood
in the hills
of my mind.

What can I know,
where can I go,
to escape
from the mills
in my mind?

Is there a place
where the wind
doesn’t blow?
Is there a land
where the sun
doesn’t show?
Where is hope
to be found
in these days?

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