The poem:

‘Pushes’

On the ground,

Staring at the ceiling.

Hearing no sound,

But my fears wheeling.

My body a ball,

Wilted in fear.

I have taken the fall,

In the end we are here.

Teeth ground flat,

Breathing is tight.

After our chat,

Don’t want a fight.

Given up the ghost,

My heart now hush.

Let’s make the most,

My soul now mush.

…

**A well meant mess.**

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**Shadow’s work has always been divisive and this piece is no different, a mixture of internal dialogue and turmoil sometimes makes for good work. Not here though as it comes as amateurish and bereft of inspiration.**

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**_Silvia Groves

(Part time writer and amateur food blogger)

…

Love You R

…

_**🖤

Oh look 800 pieces…🥲