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watercolours

all these faceless hollow images
people I’ve never met but I know,
their lives are a watercolour
with gentle strokes its painted slow,
 
secrets and lies and indiscretions
are sold with a payment of two ears,
data and information streams in
from the mouths of their next of kin,
 
I don’t wish to be nasty or rude
so I listen with a smile and a word,
sometimes I just wish for a silence
a quiet from all that’s thrown absurd,

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