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Hiroshima
They say at Hiroshima,
Their is a shadow of lovers locked,
In an embrace of a kiss,
In the background of oblivion.
Where for the last time,
As the world turned to ash,
An image of love will stain the walls.
As if to say, in the face of it all,
That though we may have perished,
We still have loved.
Matthew Rodgers is a poet,whi mostly writes, only from those impulses,
that nag at the mind until they are got out. He likes flowery free verse prose, and would consider his work perennial in imagery, having influence from western and eastern, from the old and the new. He loves to read, Kahlil Gibran, Charles Bukowski, and Fredrico Lorca.
Email: Matthew Rodgers
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