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Mar 2022
I look at the clock,
     waiting for you to get home.
I speak,
      only to be cut off.
You look at me and sigh. . .
     You are always right. . .
So please get your things and go. . .
     my heart pleads no, but my mind knows
there is no love, no warmth
     and that's okay,
        I'll be okay. . .
A Poet
Written by
A Poet  The Moon
(The Moon)   
147
       The Foodie One, Autumn, Weeping willow and NAN
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