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I look across the silent room

Every chair is overturned

My stuff is strewn around the floor

And everything is still

 

The phone sits off its hook

The landline I've not used since last year

Light streams through the dusty blinds

A bottle sits on the sill

 

The thin fabric of my shirt is old and beginning to tear

Once, a long time ago I think I might’ve cared

It’s been a long time since that day

Because when you’re like me

That’s what everyone expects

 

I think that I’d fancy not to be here

Alone, in this old chair

The one that belonged to my grandmother

I’m glad for once she’s not here

 

I think that I might break her heart

I never did tell her my secret

Now that it’s out though I really believe

It would’ve hurt less had I kept it

 

The dark has punctured a hole in my heart

And I doubt that it’ll mend

And now, as dark falls over me

This burning pain’s a friend

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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