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written by: Jack Wolfe Frost



Grave, why do you wait for me,
Is it time for us to meet?
Grave, why do you seem so dark,
And hang around my street?

Grave thou shall not have me,
I have plenty left to do,
So leave me be and stay away,
There is nothing here for you.

Grave, why follow me so,
Silently deep and dark,
Grave, I feel thy sting in me!
A prick that leaves a mark.

Grave, what will be will be,
and if you're here to stay,
Then Grave, you do not frighten me,
Let’s together, stroll ….. away.

Jack Wolfe Frost

Jack Wolfe Frost

Jack Wolfe Frost is the Eternal Rebel; he rebels against everything which may have the word “rules” or “behave” within it, whether explicit or implicit. Born in Sheffield, UK, in 1956; he first started writing in 1982, as a hobby--dreaming that perhaps one day he might try and publish something. In his working life, he has enjoyed success in many diverse areas, including running his own company twice. Now older and wiser, he has once again taken pen to paper--looking for conformity to smash and rules to break…
Jack Wolfe Frost

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