by John Smallshaw
(London, England)

In the journal of days
I have wrote all the paths and the ways I have trod.
Now I leave it to God
To review.

Never knew it was right
In this day filled with night
where the shimmering past is coated in light
from a thousand memory cells
and the future has nothing to sell you
just the promise of what it can tell you.
I wait for the verdict
and predict though I may
I can't really say
how the story will end.

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