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Mar 2012
Fog
Her solitude creeps
Along the early morning glow.

She sighs,
Solicitude leaking from the sky.

Her wisped hands
seek out companionship.

She whispers;
Words carry a shiver up your spine.

Her voice
Writes invisible sounds.

She is still searching,
Loveless and alone.

Her heart
Stifles hateful tears.

Her trepidation
Takes over.

She retreats,
away from the glow.
Alyse M King
Written by
Alyse M King
924
 
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