Luna..  Dolina .. by Paul Roberts

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Old photos are not like mirrors

i see that boy between the fissures

the occaisonal fire in my eyes

the ghost of youth that it belies

when I look back now at images

my face before it had ridges

I see only the times inbetween

and all the things that I have seen

the people met and the drugs taking

experience brings beauty and awakening

each groove proves a lesson learnt

every line in my heart a poem burnt

now and then I drop the disguise

dance in a field and forget the lies

for a night or two that lad again

especially when it pisses with rain

dancing with abandon and falling over

waking up with my face in clover

a smile and thoughts so silly

because none of us grow up really

in 20 years I’ll look back at me

and a young boy is all I’ll see
Paul Roberts

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