Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

lovers

by russell brierley

Can I speak.

How have we got to this,
At an empty party,
In crowded rooms,
No one watching,
Shambolic lovemaking.

Why wait,
Start again,
Clear the debris,
Open your mind,
Free your self and
Scramble my soul.

Empty bottles, no guests,
Lonely lovers,
With sick on their chests,
Out in the rain, catch the last train,
Mothering Sunday
And rain, rain, rain

Added: 17.04.2009

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