solitude in the midst of company;
run to the solace of familiar shadows. these hands that carry the world, this heart that bears up the worn, brave and strong; bruised and scarred. solitude promises safety, yet the quiet carries a somber requiem. travel on, gypsy wanderer; carry on, lonely soul.
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about the writer.“Words are only postage stamps delivering the object for you to unwrap” (George Bernard Shaw) past tense.
January 2019
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