My Time


written in Tippex on a broken house tile
stamped out on a blank sheet of snow
drawn by a finger on some foggy window
scribbled in the back of an exercise book
whispered in the darkness of a flickering cinema
turned into a song by Ed Sheeran
printed on T shirts, birthday cards, pencil cases

stolen by politicians

The answer
tapped out on an Iphone

“My time’s my own”:

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