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And then the first lucid words
you'd uttered for months ;
your face fleetingly donning
a husband/father mask -
a five second fantasy
where you time travel
two years back.

"Can you cure it ?"

An addled brain's last shout ,
but in a hope so vast an empty ,
those words echo with me
for hours... for days...

Chris Major

If you've any comments on this poem, Chris Major would be pleased to hear from you.