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The Poetry Bar

Blue

I drifted in the murk for months
Before I was born.
I never knew my parents
But I found others like me
And My life began.
I was happy.
This didn’t last long.
On my second birthday
I was kidnapped from my bed
The hair was torn from my body
And I was locked in a barrel for days.
Freedom was short
I was transported again and again
From one cold room to the next.
The final chamber was hot
Too hot
My screams echoed
My flesh boiled

No one came

My life and death as a blue shell mussel.

Life is perspective.
Sending all that jazz
Mouse
murdochmouse.wordpress.com
instagram.com/twistingtail
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