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  Here are two of my most recent poems. I coined the word "colded" mostly due to my mind favouring sounds and expressing thought, tempo and such through those sounds; it therefore is simply to speak to something made cold, affected by cold, frozen almost but not precisely. 5/3/2021 What kind of person will Mother of mine be? When next I see her with eyes tired I have? Will still she make tea in the house forever cold? Or are now siblings rising to take her place? And mute the east end song forever singing from TV? Can I find a rabbit, not an Emma nor an Eeeve but someone new? Bouncing round the kitchen floor, maybe begging for cuddles? Who will we be when we meet again? Shall we remember and recite the talk from hurried keys? Or shall that be gone with the wind and that day the first to talk? Will Romford remember me and will I remember it? The strange land of misery and hate; a remarkable land where hope grew A tiny town confused by the past; yet encoura...