Found Object
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I am a little God of tarnished silver lying silently in the grass. A secret thing, hidden by earth waiting to be discovered.
Poetry
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Poetry Workshop – The Guardian
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This poem first appeared in The Guardian in October 2004 It’s only when he turns the pages, touches the paper,that his eyes light up He keeps a scrapbook of images, pictures clipped from magazines of places he’s never been. Mountain ranges and forests skyscrapers and empty boulevards. He gazes at them and dreams. Talks of
