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Sleeping Party

All the invited show

But I am too nervous to face them

I hideaway in the confines of the only space I know

My head in my pillow

Where I often go

To weep as the willow, I plant myself deep

If I can’t see what I miss

I feign ignorance for bliss

I wait for the clock to countdown till the lot

Clears from my home

In my room alone, I hear the sound of laughter

A happiness for which, the pursuit I am not after

I sometimes raise my head and wonder

If only I could leave this place

Perhaps in another life things could be different

The eventual silence soothes me to sleep

A soundless slumber in faceless dreams

Names I will soon forget

In the end, nothing is different

Categories: poetry

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

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