In the libraries, thumbing through old
forgotten tomes,
Words in books, talking to him, as they
never do at home,
Upon peeling park bench, feeding crumbs to
passing birds,
Feathered friends, showing her love, with
no need for words,
Sitting at the bus stops or stations, with
nowhere else to go,
All pretending with a smile, so passing
folk would never know,
In the cafes, bars & taverns, sitting
quietly huddled & all alone,
Making teas & beers last, not to be
heading to lonely homes,
Fingering goods in shops & malls, to simply
fill up their time,
Lingering in lonely places, with many hours
of the day to climb.
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