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Silence is Golden

Or so we say, breaking
    the silence. But when said and done

what happens to words? I think they go
    into the silence where there are none

the silence we ordered them to shun

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Broken

There are thoughts you canít help
but must not say Ė
evilís in
the everyday

tiny, frustrated
truths which, spoken,
slowly mean
loved hearts are broken.

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Tangle

Whether or not you loved me
I know Iíll never know
which is part of the reason I stayed with you
until you chose to go.

Whether or not I loved you
is equally unclear
unless love and need are so tangled up
one means the otherís there.

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It

It happens when youíre not looking, and when you are
itís slipped away.
Itís only looking back, youíre sure it was there

or wasnít, or suspect
it always is, and that itís you
who is or isnít, while it bedazzles, everywhere

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Naked


Iíd like
            our old bodies
                    to lie together
                                naked
                                       one last time Ė

just
            to lie there

                                    remembering

Tom Vaughan

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Tom Vaughan   would be pleased to hear them

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