Best Poem of C M Rice

Early Hour Memory
Holding us all from those young days,
Through early school and popular phase,
One only admits the fact, so subtle,
Staring down another empty bottle,

I hear the hand tick tock today,
Thinking to myself to get away,
Away from this, that is always here,
This clock it matches my dropping tear . . .
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Waiting For Green
Mobile phones with their special ring tones,
Our generations become simple human clones,
Q. Why can’t we see this? A. We do what we’re told.
Stood here, waiting, in Dublin’s cold.

I look around and no smiles are seen,
None of the ambition of the 90’s scene,
I wonder if anyone thinks at all,
That they ro . . .
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