Lone Bodies

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Lone light in my eyes,

the end of the mud path.

Lone sound of my shoe

drowning in a brown puddle.

 

Lone dance on a stage

from a practised mind

Lone dance without a stage

from an euphoric heart.

 

Lone clicking of the tongue

killing the violent silence.

Lone blinking of the eyelids –

we are only slaves of our bodies.

 

Lone stretching arms

in protest to the routine

Lone book flung on the floor

same letters, same lines, same spaces.

 

A lone pen writes,

no one notices.

I see the lone wolf cry,

but no one notices

the same painful roar

strangling their voices.

 

I had posted this poem a while back but I felt like going back to it and fixing it. So here it is again, all better 🙂

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