The stolen generation.

The stolen generation.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

In the fireplace lit
many a heart has warmed
but in the ashes of memories
the hearts have flown
leaving the fireplace
cold and empty.
So who bares all?
Only the flames
that reflect
on naked bodies
give tomorrow
something to feed on.

© 2021 andrew mitchell


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Added on February 16, 2021
Last Updated on February 16, 2021

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..