David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
David Thomas Broughton
“Into the well of ideas I never dropped, off the edge of my better side I popped, a spell of good weather gave me lightness, but the gravity it never went away, and onwards we trudge, a stronghold we claim, is it a stronghold we’ve got? is it balls, the strategy is theoretically right, but is it right? is it balls, oh my love is gone and my faith is shot and I fall to ground like a corpse, I lift my arms to the heavens and shout ‘want can I do?’, and onwards we trudge”*