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Alone ©

by Paul Spiers
Manchester, England
2003

As the smoke,
falls,
rolls,
tumbles into the black night sky,
I can't help but wonder if the tears that plague my eyes,
are there to remind me of lost allies that departed with my lies,
deceit entwined,
sinful, hated for myself,
pushing people away each time they approach my den of self loathing,
though it's joyous in some respect,
as I don't feel inept,
I enjoy the scent of this,
this ritual,
it's rather amusing if told,
the reasons I can't adapt,
it's always been inside me....
gnawing at my flesh..
my whole being encased in woe,
and I can feel it getting closer,
it's time for me to go,
it's time for me to go.


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