The Ards Fearie


When dugs drag
You are auld enough
Seeing more than many
Matters nothing then
If dragging dugs or plastic
When the Ards fearie comes
Hopefully comatose
No suffering
No one will praise
How great the plastic was
Or if you lacked it
All will talk about the moment
Your eyes opened last
Or maybe you squeezed
A grandchild’s finger
People will talk
About what you were
Never knowing
You never changed
Only the dugs Changed
Only the balls fell
Only the eyes were wizened
The mouth sunken cheeks
Inside you were the same
Like you were at maybe

5 or 10 or 25
Or maybe birth?

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