Oh can there be more parlous sight
than a boy who can’t survive the night
a sorry figure who feels the sting
of a lowly, upturned Claddagh ring
not long since on finger proudly sat
what more sad a sign could be than that
staring down as enforced grieving
sees every little promise leaving
with it ebbs all sense of vigour
that cuts a broken listless figure
can there really be one more of sorrow
than knowing it’s the same tomorrow

Song Of The Day ~ Little Ann – Deep Shadows

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