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Yes, yes, another poem.. this one is an odd one.. my train of thought was meandering, following some invisible river course. I think it is about a picture of a loved one in a frame, and someone is looking at it after the person has passed on.. they're in sort of a state of denial. I think that is it, any way.. I don't know, I just write here.

you are never really there
though i imagine an occasional stare
your vacant eyes appear as beacons
only guiding me away, not towards

so i sit and i wait
you don't say a word
and your eyes never leave the place
that they are so fixed upon

sometimes i wish 
that you would notice me
and say something 
you never want to talk anymore

you're looking rather pale today
i say to you, but really to me
you always look pale, though
trapped beneath that glass 

i'd love to take you outside and be with you again.. 
but it is too late
and i know that you will be 
t r a p p e d 
in that frame 

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