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the irony of being alone

ALONE

In my solitude I stood,
unwavering, unmoved.
I no longer feel or fear.
I only stare from afar.
No more crowds of faceless people
no longer a life of deceit.
I am free.
I am alone.
Let me be.

On my bed I lay motionless,
questions unresolved linger in my head.
I may not feel or fear
but I know no happiness yonder.
I no longer hurt
but I too no longer live.
So I am free
but I am alone.
Should I let it be?

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