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Poetry Corner - homegrown efforts encouraged!!
I thought we could do with a little Poetry Corner :D. Preferably homegrown produce please - the creative effort of making up poems is very good for pain!
As this hopefully contain people's creations can I just ask that if anyone wants to use one elsewhere, the author is asked and credited (ie if anyone wanted to post mine somewhere, just put at the bottom "by Brambledog from Neurotalk.psychcentral.com"). LOL, there's a thought - just an example. ..... I wrote this one in the last hour after my daughter dropped her phone on my right foot. OMG the pain. It felt as though someone had whacked it with a damn hammer :rolleyes: it's not happy now, oh dear.... I look forward to reading everything from two lines that sum up a thought, to epic poems. No rhyming necessary (although it's always fun!). Bram :grouphug: ..... CRPS Behind the scenes we're all a mess, Life lurches by, we try our best. And no one sees, the pain's no less From hour to hour we talk and jest. We plaster on another smile For others. Another night, another dawn, Another aching day is born But up we get, we only yawn We square our shoulders, hearts forlorn. There's life to live, to run and chase For others. It feels like that, but is it so? Do we really have to go Another day, and feel this low As off without us being slow Remaining family cheerful leave With others. I want to go, but I'm afraid I'm scared of bumps, of being made To walk much further, is there shade? Are there seats? *A right charade. I feel I'm ruining the day, For others. But if I stay with these four walls, This messy carpet, cluttered hall, I feel I might just have to bawl Or give up, get myself a shawl Like some old lady, mad and blind Like others. Well bugger that, I hate these fears I've years to go yet - years and years! I won't stay in and age with tears Although within my skin pain sears My very bones. Ok. It hurts. Like others. I wish I was just brave enough To do these things - a little tough. I'll go and it will all be bluff, (I'll move away if things get rough). So hear, CRPS? Go jump! I'm others. Copyright: Brambledog :winky: |
Great poem Bram.
Here's one that I love. Accept Me Larry S. Changges I am I Do not change me condemn me nor put me down Accept me for what I am No....you need not agree with me But accept me for I am total in being I have my faults I have my guilts But that is who I am Perfect I will never be Allow me to be uninhibited Do not pressure me into feeling what I do not feel Accept me when I am flying high As I have accepted you when you were flying high Do not put me down... nor make me feel unhappy about me I am I and I like being what I am Me. |
Here's another one I love.
The Rainbow Bridge inspired by a Norse legend By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill, Is a lush, green meadow where time stands still. Where the friends of man and woman do run, When their time on earth is over and done. For here, between this world and the next, Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest. On this golden land, they wait and they play, Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day. No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness, For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness. Their limbs are restored, their health renewed, Their bodies have healed, with strength imbued. They romp through the grass, without even a care, Until one day they start, and sniff at the air. All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back, Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack. For just at that instant, their eyes have met; Together again, both person and pet. So they run to each other, these friends from long past, The time of their parting is over at last. The sadness they felt while they were apart, Has turned into joy once more in each heart. They embrace with a love that will last forever, And then, side-by-side, they cross over… together. © 1998 Steve and Diane Bodofsky. All Rights Reserved. Show Me the Fine Art Print |
People get offended by a burp or fart. Yes I said it. You need to keep an open mind and not take offense because someone turned left instead of right while walking. If we keep an open mind instead of closing it we could have a better world. Closing our minds is what some Drs do about our pain in telling us its all in our heads and not investigating it. I don't judge unless a judgement is past on me.
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Bram,
Do you have any more Shakespeare? Would love to hear it if that's okay with you.Thanks. |
Here you are Renee! This is Shakespeare writing about poetry....:winky:
“The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven; and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name; such tricks hath strong imagination.” William Shakespeare. I hope someone else will be brave and generous enough to share something of their own too - I know it's daunting, but you'd be doing me a favour, otherwise I can't post any more of mine!! :D Bram. |
Ok, here's another one I like. Hope you like it too.
Each Life Affects Another We may not always realize That every thing we do, Affects not only our lives But touches others, too! For a little bit of thoughtfulness That shows someone you care, Creates a ray of sunshine For both of you to share. Yes, every time you offer Someone a helping hand ... Every time you show a friend You care and understand ... Every time you have A kind and gentle word to give ... You help someone find beauty In this precious life we live. For happiness brings happiness And loving ways bring love; And giving is the treasure That contentment is made of. - Amanda Bradley --------------------------- |
Desperate Times
Desperate Times
Lord, it's getting to be desperate times Why do you seem to delay In responding to my pressing needs That I remind you of each day? In my mind I know that you Will come through in the end, But in my heart emotions rise And I worry and fret again Help me, Lord, at those times To give it again to you, Help me know deep in my heart That you will pull me through And that you fully understand Exactly where I’m at, Though circumstances do not change, In you, I shall not lack Everything when given to you Will work out for my good, For when I cast my care on you, It's then, that it's understood That it's just a matter of your timing In responding to my need, For often it's because you're doing A deeper work in me So all that's left for me to do, The one thing that is sure, Is to put my trust in you each day, For nothing matters more. © By M.S.Lowndes My trust is in HIM .. for my life was spared not once but twice and for that I rejoice even through the darkness that CRPS (or any other disease/illness/injury) brings. |
The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. Source: The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |
Okay, Bram. I don't have a poetic bone in my body but I want to see another one of yours. So, I have written a haiku just for you.
A wee bit broken Not quite who I used to be I will start again Feel free to cringe. I am. :P |
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Thank you so much for sharing that :) Bram. |
Bram, now you can post another one of your real poems. :)
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Crumbs, no pressure.... :p
Better write one soon then! But thanks for the vote of confidence Kim :) Bram. |
KimA I love your haiku, so you'll get no cringes from me.
When I saw this thread, my goofy brain immediately went to this little sing, songy, tid bit that my godfather used to tell me, I was very young ok, not like last week. LOL ok, get ready to send raspberries my way. A peanut sat upon a track His heart was all a flutter. A train came rolling round the bend Toot toot, peanut butter. :D:D:D:eek::eek::eek::D |
I love that Syl!!!! :D
Fab....keep 'em coming! Bram (still awaiting inspiration lol) |
Ok, here's one prompted by a dream I had recently....:rolleyes:
Bram. Dreaming I dreamt I woke without the pain. The sun was shining....no more rain. I dashed downstairs into the street And ran on my own normal feet. I walked the hills in wind and rain, And laughed and shouted just the same. I tidied up my daughter's room, She smiled like roses softly bloom. I went back to my tennis game I won of course, biked home again! I took my children to the fair, We rode the highest in the air. My husband took me to a dance, A pretty dress, his loving glance. We whirled about, and chatted long My heart so full, and nothing wrong. I dreamt, I woke. I wish, I hope. Brambledog c.2013 |
Bram, those are SO good! Seriously, that first one made me almost cry. The "others" line at the end was so effective because it broke the pattern of the lines above and it really caught your notice.
The second one was also really good. I'm not just flattering you, either. You really have a talent for this. The images in the first part; they were varied, and you caught an essence of each (daughter-roses; dance-pretty dress, relationship, movement; games-winning! :D ) Then in the second part, the sadness of waking, but with the stubborn bit of hope ... Please keep them coming. They're beautiful! |
Beautiful Bram. For me, the last two lines are heart breaking.
Thank you. |
That's so nice guys. Thank you :)
Perhaps I could write a book of poetry for CRPS and publish it to raise awareness and donations for research?! Hmm.......scary thought. Brams considers putting herself up for possible public opinion.... :eek: Bram. |
Here's another one:
Poetry: If you could live in my body A Poem submitted by one of our ButYouDontLookSick.com members. If you could live in my body, just for a day, maybe you wouldn’t think that I feel okay. You might understand what it’s like to be tired by just trying to live, just doing what’s required. If you could live in my body you might begin to see, that a simple drug won’t set me free. If you could live in my skin you’d learn to understand that it’s not in my head, nor was it planned. I don’t want your pity or to make you resent. But I don’t need to apologize, or have your consent. I am sick and I’m tired every single day, and it won’t help to ignore it. So listen when I say: it helps when I relax with a friend and some tea. You can’t understand but please, believe me. Submitted by Beth Turner, © butyoudontlooksick.com - See more at: http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/wp....qQPCWZ0F.dpuf |
And Just One More...
Love and Friendship BY EMILY BRONTË Love is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree— The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most constantly? The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again And who will call the wild-briar fair? Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now And deck thee with the holly’s sheen, That when December blights thy brow He still may leave thy garland green. |
Both of those are beautiful Renee, both in different ways...
Thanks :) Bram. |
Don't You Quit
I'm sick of editing/working... I wanna play! :D Although I'm not talented enough to create my own, so I will share one instead.
The work you have all shared is lovely. Bram you are so talented. Don't You Quit When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and the debts are high, And you want to smile, but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit- Rest if you must, but don't you quit. Life is queer with its twists and turns, As every one of us sometimes learns, And many a fellow turns about When he might have won had he stuck it out. Don't give up though the pace seems slow - You may succeed with another blow. Often the goal is nearer than It seems to a faint and faltering man; Often the struggler has given up When he might have captured the victor's cup; And he learned too late when the night came down, How close he was to the golden crown. Success is failure turned inside out - The silver tint in the clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It might be near when it seems afar; So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit - It's when things seem worst that you must not quit. ~Ralph Acosta |
Love that poem, but never knew who it was by! Thanks Vrae, that was lovely :)
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Sorry guys, this one's not that chirpy, but today it's how I feel, and writing it helped a bit :rolleyes: although it did make me shed the odd tear.
Hope you are all doing ok out there. This one's for you :hug: Bram. Not My Best Day If I crane my head a little, I can see a green stand of trees. I know beyond that lies the town, the rivers, life and such bustle. My car is crouching on the drive, and sits waiting for my key Sunshine moves the shadows, and crisply on the lawn leaves rustle. Autumn now bring chills and draughts, they scare me like a dragon crouched. My blanket here is soft and warm, comforting like chocolate, Whispering it's safer here, reassuring me, my dog slouched Across the other sofa, makes me smile, her happy noises soft. The tv there is on of course, but nothing on it interests me Not even real people's lives, but something darker like grey skies Or that noise behind you in the darkness. It's hard to watch, to see Life as it could be, as it was, as it might have been had fate smiled. It's grey now outside. Grey and damp and chilled like the hope it replaces. It's hard to keep going each day, to smile again and face alone; To stop that silent scream escaping, teaching those judging faces About this thing, this pain, this beast, that gnaws upon my very bones Both day and night. Night and day merge together, tied by pain like wire Cutting through flesh. Try to explain, see confusion, even boredom there; See dark the yawning*cloud their eyes behind the sympathetic smile. They don't see, they can't. Who could? Except you others who know and share.* You share it all, you see, that pain, the searing tears upon your cheeks. You know, you see, that black black depth within us where we go to hide When it is bad, beyond belief of what should be endured. You seek The same relief, that gasping breath of life again, your eyes wide. No wonder we all hope and pray and wish for the impossible. Screens flickering with searches and dreams, fingers touch and burn there, On keys to keep the link between loneliness and understanding. A lifeline when being drowned in pain becomes just too much to bear. I cannot see those pseudonyms, or know their lives and faces true, But like the air that fills my lungs, I see them in my heart, they hold My hand in darkness and fight with me against the fear. And the blue Streak of dawn brings hope of sunlight, warmth at last to chase the cold. Thank you all. Brambledog c.2013 |
I cut and pasted the poem below.
I found it on the internet, but the author is unknown. I hope you like it. PLEASE UNDERSTAND Please understand that being sick doesn't mean I'm not still a human being I don't feel well often times and I might not seem like great company, but I'm still me stuck inside this body. I still worry about my kids and work and my family and friends, and I'd like to hear you talk about yours too. Sometimes I want to talk about my illness sometimes I don't, so please don't roll your eyes when I talk about my pain and please don't pressure me to "get it off my chest" when I just want to pretend it doesn't exist. Please Understand the difference between "happy" and "healthy". When you've got the flu you probably feel miserable with it, but I've been sick for years. I can't be miserable all the time, in fact I work hard at not being miserable. So if you're talking to me and I sound happy, it means I'm happy. That's all. I may be tired I may be in pain. I may be sicker than ever. Please, don't say, "Oh, you're sounding better!" as if I'm healed. I am not sounding better, I am sounding happy. Tomorrow I may sound worse again. Please understand that being able to function for an hour doesn't necessarily mean that I can keep it up all day. Doing everyday things, that everyone else takes for granted, exhausts my resources and I need to recover. Imagine an athlete after a race. They couldn't repeat that feat right away either. With a lot of diseases you're either paralyzed or you can move. With this one it gets more confusing. Maybe today, I can handle work and home, tomorrow it may be one or the other but not both. There is actually a name for this it's called postactivity payback and it sucks. So, please try to keep in mind that I don't function like everyone else and just because I can do it today doesn't mean I can do it everyday. Please remember that the above paragraph can apply to just about anything, "sitting up", "walking", "thinking", "being sociable", and so on it can apply to everything that requires physical or mental effort. That's what a chronic pain illness does to you. Please understand that chronic illnesses are variable. It's quite possible (for me, it's common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I'll have trouble getting to the kitchen. Please don't attack me when I'm ill by saying, "But you did it before!". If you want me to do something, ask if I can and I'll tell you. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel an invitation at the last minute, if this happens please don't take it personally. Please understand that "getting out and doing things" does not make me feel better, and can often make me seriously worse. Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy may cause secondary depression (wouldn't you get depressed if you were always in pain and exhausted?) but it is not caused by depression. Telling me that I need some fresh air and exercise is not appreciated and not correct - if I could do it, I would. Please understand that if I say I have to sit down/lie down take these pills now, that I do have to do it right now, it can't be put off or forgotten just because I'm doing something. RSD/CRPS does not forgive. Please understand that I can't spend all of my energy trying to get well. With a short-term illness like the flu, you can afford to put life on hold for a week or two while you get well, But part of having a chronic illness is coming to the realization that you have to spend some energy on having a life now. This doesn't mean I'm not trying to get better. It doesn't mean I've given up. It's just how life is when you're dealing with a chronic illness. I will go about the business of living, but I won't necessarily be happy about it either so please try to understand that there is a reason I'm a little crabby sometimes. I can't just hide in bed with my head under the covers because I don't feel good everyday. But I sure have tried to do just that. Please If you want to, you can suggest a cure to me, but please don't act as if it's going to be my salvation. It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, and it's not because I don't want to get well. It's because I have had almost every single one of my friends suggest something at one point or another. Typically, it's just the same old snake oil in a new package. If there was something that cured, or even helped, people with RSD/CRPS then we'd already know about it. There is worldwide networking (both on and off the Internet) between people with RSD/CRPS, if something worked we would KNOW. I'm happy to hear what you have to offer and if it's something that I haven't heard before, I'll take what you said and discuss it with my doctor. Please understand that getting relief from an illness like this can be very slow if not imposable. People with RSD/CRPS have so many systems in their bodies out of equilibrium, and functioning wrongly, that it may take a long time to sort everything out. Please understand that if I pull away from a touch or a hug. Its does not mean that I am anti-social. Or that I don't like you. It simply means that my body's ability to enjoy touch has changed and I am unable to greet people in a normal mater because of the chronic burning pain that RSD/CRPS causes. I depend on you - people who are not sick for many things. But most importantly, I need you to understand me. |
That one is really good. I've read it before, and I really like it. I was going to try to find it and post here, but you beat me to it! It explains a lot of things very well, IMO. Thanks for sharing it!
I especially liked this: "Please understand that chronic illnesses are variable. It's quite possible (for me, it's common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I'll have trouble getting to the kitchen. Please don't attack me when I'm ill by saying, "But you did it before!". " |
I am still ME
By CRPSSongbird :)
One day, one moment, one breath Life changed, dreams altered Searing, burning, numb Dread, and fear Dark, and lost I am still here Each day a struggle outcast, and misunderstood Bright pain, black hope shadowed in loss I am still here I still breathe, I still dream changed but still real hurt but not quite healed Other can't see wretched disbelief they can't know But I still feel I'm lost, but resolved broken, but whole Altered, yet steady I am still ME |
Wow Songbird, that was fab! :)
Thanks so much for sharing that with us....it was so sad, but strong and defiant. I feel a bit like that right now (the painful outcast blackness bit anyway :rolleyes:) time to find my strength again :winky: Bram. |
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The weather has been awful here, and we are sitting right under a big low pressure weather system....probably explains a lot! Take care Bird and hope you sleep well. I'm off to see if I can get a few more hours kip than last night...zzz Bram. |
CRPSSongbird,
This is a beautiful poem. So painful. So well put. Thank you. It is me too. Quote:
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Not sure whether to laugh or cry today :rolleyes:...
Hope you are all feeling ok and having a good day x Bram. This Blinkin Leg Some days this leg of mine freezes Like a polar wind has found its way into my bones And set everything solid. Dull blue, strange shades of purple bruise And patchy weirdness. Surely this is some other creature's leg? Oh it hurts. Deep breath. And another. Steady now. Suck in any warmth from the air, It might just thaw the glacier and let my blood Move again, thickly first, but flowing at last. Oxygen for me, for those poor damaged cells. Later the same day, while eating tea or chatting Or anything else 'normal' (ha) It will suddenly burn Like a thousand suns Or one of those old fashioned bar fires; You know - the ones your grandma had in the lounge. Suddenly red, fierce and flaming; I could fry an egg on that love, he says With a kind attempt at humour, and that smile. I'd like to laugh, really I would, But somehow it is taking all my effort Just to not scream, or cry, or sob wildly. My children are in the room you see. Mustn't break down now. Deep breath. And another. Drink the air in, Wish it were raw alcohol that might numb me From the inside out, and quench the fire. Where is my arctic blast now? Oh how I hate this. If I had a pain therapist here now I might throw my book at him, or use my stick To spill his tea in his lap. Fools. Pain management? I might as well wish the stars We're not hanging defiant in the velvet night, Or that the clouds could disperse with a flick Of my aching fingers. Laughter at last, Bitter irony, angry and sad and honestly Just ever so slightly hysterical. CRPS. Can't Really Paint Seasides. I wish. Oh wouldn't that be better. I could deal with that. Maybe just paint flowers instead. Pretty, quiet, gentle flowers, pastel shades And upturned little faces, watching for the sun. Brambledog c.2013 |
Too much time on my hands right now!! This one is a bit of light relief for all of us who love our furry friends....:)
Bram. ..... My Friend Cat My cat here is a thing of calm; Of purr, soft fur and scything claws. She sits, or sprawls, or pounds at me, Her pink mouth, daggers deadly, yawns. A thing of beauty is my cat, All calm serenity, all peace. Such soft and warm and curling grace, So sweet and lithe, with endless ease. At night though, all the small things fright, And start and run and hide away. They know her black and ruthless heart, Her killing stare, her deadly play. By day my friend, by night this hell, That visits on the slower mouse A dreadful curse, not always quick, But sure and deft, upon their house. Yet here she sits and licks quite sure, And lifts her paw with dancer's style To gently wash each ear again, And twitch my mouth into a smile. Brambledog c.2013 |
I'm sorry, but this one is really a downer - I'm going thru some pretty awful times now :( I've never written poetry (at least since I was forced to in school) but I wanted to try and get this off my chest.
The Undertaker "Mom, I like when you wear make-up!" I hear my daughter say, and groan (inwardly; why give her more pain than she already has? The other girls in her class have moms that smile and move around lightly; fleet, happy birds whose movements are thoughtless and carefree, instead of greedily hoarded then carefully spent, movement by precious movement, as a miser hoards rare and costly things). This means 5 less minutes of precious rest; but ... it also means a little gift for my daughter, who has fewer daily presents under her tree than those other girls; but these presents are bought with more costly currency. So I get up, moving past the pain (or through the pain or with the pain, for I can't move past it) to my dressing-table, where I lay out the tools of my outward beauty. Soft, creamy foundation, that smooths out the blotches and softens the lines of pain and fatigue; Warm brown eyeshadows, and soft, dark liner to give sparkle to eyes that are dulled; Mascara to conceal the hairs that are gone (along with other, more precious things); Soft lipstick to brighten a smile (God, help me to remember to smile!) and my mother's perfume (this last is for me; the scent envelops me like her arms; a soft, warm, gentle embrace that doesn't hurt because it isn't real). I lay out the tools - and start painting the corpse. |
CRPS is not all me,
I am not CRPS. But since it got hold of me I must agree That my life is a bit of a mess. :winky: Brambledog c.2013 har har :D |
Me and My RSD
By RSD RENEE One night when I went out to my car I fell on ice and broke my wrist My husband drove me not too far To a hospital through fog and mist The pain increased and swelling too My wrist turned bright red and then bright blue It stiffened up and atrophied I wondered what had happened to me Then my doctor told me one fateful day That I had RSD and it was here to stay I felt so numb and that it was unreal It felt untrue and so surreal When finally my shock wore off I took my pills and nerve blocks too And realized my life had changed Into constant pain my whole life through But I cling onto hope That a cure will come That it will be soon From someone And my life will be Like it was before And my RSD Will be no more. |
Yay people! Release your inner Byron! :D
Bram. |
Barter by Sara Teasdale
Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children's faces looking up Holding wonder like a cup. Life has loveliness to sell, Music like a curve of gold, Scent of pine trees in the rain, Eyes that love you, arms that hold, And for your spirit's still delight, Holy thoughts that star the night. Spend all you have for loveliness, Buy it and never count the cost; For one white singing hour of peace Count many a year of strife well lost, And for a breath of ecstasy Give all you have been, or could be. |
My Arm
I used to have an arm, It was really rather strong And it used to pick the kettle up quite surely. But now it has the CRiPS, It's much weaker than it was, Unpredictable and painful and poorly. I used to have a foot That would carry me so far, Cross the fields, over hills and parks gaily. But now it has the CRiPS, It's so painful, thin and weak, And it stumbles now and trips me up most daily. I used to have a knee, That bent and stretched and jumped, It was always so reliable and strong. But now it has the CRiPS, It looks thin but fat, it's sore, And now it sometimes gets the job quite wrong. I used to have a hand, I could turn to anything, Often played piano, cello and the flute. But now it has the CRiPS, It's so cold and weak and aches, It can't do much for long, it wants me to be mute. I used to have some toes, They were prettier than most, And I painted them and liked to show them off. But now they have the CRiPS They're all burnt and red and grim, And only now of interest to a prof. I used to have a life, It was fast and fun and mad, And I shared it all with many folk around me. But now I have the CRiPS, And my life seems to have shrunk, Not by choice, but just because this thing has changed me. I am not the girl I was, Not the woman or the mum, Just this living husk of burn and ache and pain. For I've lost sight of the sun, In amongst all these dark clouds, And I need a stout umbrella for this rain. Brambledog, c.2013. |
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