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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