remember
to an age before age
we turn back the page
but the wind from the grave
turns it back - queue up and behave
up the down escalator of mud
our eyes filling and filling with blood
the glamorous adverts jeer
going up cheer up cheer up dear
for the ghost of christmases past
has unwrapped the last parcel the last parcel at last
the perfect gift for the end of my days
a diary of blank pages and pages that says ...
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