The sun still shines over Wigan Pier, occasionally,
They say it’s grim up north
But I say it’s grin up,
Chin up north first and foremost,
Our chatter and inflections,
are the cold air echoing round our skinny bones,
Theres a million shades of grey
In our skies,
Theres a million queues
Outside a million shops,
Selling pies
There’s a street corner accident of an accent,
Thick as gravy,
But the sun still shines over Wigan Pier, occasionally
Brilliant ❤️
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Thank you glad you enjoyed it
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You are most welcome ❤️
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Your writing is amazing. You make it look so easy.
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Thanks for your comments you are very kind 😊
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