I don’t turn up for the battle,
Not because I hate you
Or am angry,
Rather I am sad.
And drained.
And some days I forget
If we are friend or foe.
Days where I want to laze in the sun,
Not plough through the mud,
Churning over old ground
For small advances.
Days where my absence might at least
Afford you victory.
Thursday, 17 July 2014
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