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May 2015
Fake flames encased in glass
reflect faces of strangers.
Superficial warmth and comfort
radiate from their mouths.

I'm set on edge regardless of my
firm seat and muttered condolences.
Their eyes tell me lies that
they would never speak aloud.

This dense joyous atmosphere
accentuates their hidden pains.

But they can't tell I'm uncomfortable
because my eyes lie the same.
Justin S Wampler
Written by
Justin S Wampler  30/M
(30/M)   
372
     ryn and Justin S Wampler
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