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Aug 2015
the rain beats down on the windows
and i wonder now
if it beats the same for him

we are divided by fame
or lack of it
what's in a face
or in a name

our hearts beat down or are
beaten down
by time that's not a virtue

our love is new
our souls are old
known by many
but understood by few

we are sedated by life
not  a life worth living
but one to pass the time
we'll put on a smile
however hollow
it fools them for a while

until it's real
life imitates art
until forever
we remain apart

the rain beats down on the windows now
and i wonder if it beats the same

for him
Bea Hastings
Written by
Bea Hastings  new york city
(new york city)   
350
   GaryFairy, --- and PoetryJournal
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