Holy Glore Poem by Saul McCandless

Holy Glore



Like humans used to...
Like they/we knew to...

Then again no one does anything
Others and the jealousy that abounds

No one whispers words: “Achieve the meaning of what you are! ”

The end of unkept promises
All things to cease and not deliver

Can you see your self in the last dance?
There is no good time evidently

Can you save and open curious circumstance?

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Saul McCandless

Saul McCandless

Co. Down, N. Ireland
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