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Quicksand

Updated: May 3

Lonely is a dreaded place between now and then, a

frown and a grin, where a happy day drifts and slides

to the other side and I am left to atone, alone

 

Loneliness drapes itself along the edges of my days.

There is no place to stand in the quicksand of loneliness.

A split from someone we know can be slow to heal.

 

Sometimes it feels it will never grow back together again

But then events pile up so high we must prompt ourselves

To remember what we wanted so desperately to forget.

 

In arrays of somber blacks and muted greys, a doorway

To other days that sparkled like little boys absorbed

With their toys that aged as did they.



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