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Poetry from within

The blue shoe


The road, it is quiet again

in this suburban town.

Be thankful for; the gentle rain;

the drains the blood washed down.

A while ago when we were here

with fire men and police

winching the lorry cabin clear.

Screams that chilled the blood like ice.

It's thirty for good reason;

To enable you to brake.

In narrow streets with children,

slow down for pity's sake!

Abandoned lies a little shoe, in blue

that once was owned by girl, age 2

Mark Rand