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Salon for Rhyming Poetry - Five
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Poem Number 405
we often feel that no-one cares
I'm looking back for a hand to grasp and no ones there
a solitary soul adrift in a sea of faces
searching for hope in empty places
the cold steel warms with my touch
the isolation will end soon
I've had enough.
With love that's understanding, it's enough to turn December into June
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