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Writer's pictureDarkling Thrushes

Pain is the Meaning of Our Lives

Updated: Oct 2, 2023

We never sought one another out,

There in those labyrinthine streets,

Where clouds drop buckets of rain,

To stain the sky and leave again.


Beyond the brooding, dusty hedge,

My solitaire window high in the wall,

Was dark with curtains, if you looked in,

Or I out, my gaze never found yours. __________

Copyright 2023 Jeffrey Merk

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