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Poetry By: annat2again

Tags: Games, Love, Play

A reflective mood brought me back to booksie tonight...I noted on someone's page how, when my mother was alive but in ill health, I did a power of writng to help keep her motivated...in some respect my creative muse died a little bit along with her. This short poem was one of her favourites...so this one is for you Mum.

Submitted:Jan 11, 2014    Reads: 11    Comments: 5    Likes: 3   

Playing Games

We played house -

I played up

I played around

I played Larry Dooley

then played it down


But he played the game

Better than I did

Refused to play second fiddle

and left me playing



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