Stokes Croft

God breakdances on the cold, hard, church floors

The worshippers clap

And the priests exclaim

Kicking, spinning, and alive

Two sets of footprints

Left in the sand

Stretching on and on

Fading from view

The gentle waves

Filling in with their paintbrushes

Painting over everything they touch

With shells, seaweed and life

A billion eyes watch from their TVs

Experiencing life behind a screen

I sip my cider and sigh:

“Life is only as hard as I make it.

It’s actually quite easy, I only have to breathe.”

Author: Jack Bennett

Born in Torbay, living in Bristol. One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.

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