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Oct 6
someone's home
no light, just a forlorn shining from the windows.
inaudible music plays somewhere,
it's so loud yet so silent.
it rains inside on a yet so sunny day.
someone's home, but isn't.

cold hands grasp after something warm,
they reach into thin air.
empty words align with the silence.
the clock on the wall stopped ticking as the seconds pass.
in someone's home, someone isn't home.
A poem about depressions
Written by
Philip
137
 
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