Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

odd man out.

and there is not one
waiting in a dimly lit room
so as to not be seen
watching
through the window
for anticipated arrival
Nor in cold echo
of night darkness
for romantic
rendezvous
But one who
sits in
solitary serenity
whose soul speaks to
No one
and whose heart
sings a song
that will not
be heard

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December 7, 2008 - Posted by | Poetry |

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