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Sep 2014
Another year is subsiding;
I have lost track of time.  
The smell of despair fills the room.

Sleep is nothing but an illusion,
thoughts of "what is" and "what was"
scribbling on the walls.
So many once promised love; there was one
who offered something much deeper.

A beautiful connection,
deeply rooted beneath the surface of affection.  
The word "love" was never spoken;
the sentiment felt beyond measure.

It was my situation that opened my eyes
to reality; the fantasy of hope
angered my soul.

It was my hand that closed the shades
removing the light from view; finding
no comfort in the darkness.

Everyday, since that moment, I have
thought about you; the anonymous vocabulary
sent in a bottle, from time to time.

The occasional glance from the shadows,
watching you from the distance; wishing
you could be with me.
David W Jones
Written by
David W Jones  Las Vegas, Nevada
(Las Vegas, Nevada)   
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