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Sep 2023
Whispering winds, the rustling of trees,
Amidst the green, a bench and quiet pleas.
A solace found, where sorrows nest,
My weary heart, finds silent rest.

A sturdy bench, with a strong wooden frame,
Supports the weight, of sorrows I daren't name.
Overcast clouds, crowd my mind in a storm,
Here on this bench, holds melancholy form.

Searching outside, of my internal struggles,
Happiness everywhere, just me with these troubles.
Family picnics, kids play on the hill,
Friends laugh together, as I sit frozen still.

How do they do it, I can't help but wonder,
they dance in the sunshine, while I'm stuck in the thunder.
No sadness to be seen, just smiles and glee,
I can see that it's possible, but is it possible for me?

But then I remember, as the day comes and goes,
We all have our moments, our highs and our lows.
Today I might be here, sat alone in the rain,
But Tomorrow may bring me, to the sunshine again.
Sometimes, the loneliest place is in a crowd.
Written by
Hugo Pierce  23/M/England
(23/M/England)   
460
 
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