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Starry Night

Why are you here, all alone
In the middle of the night
Painting a picture
Of listing whip trees, dreary rooftops,
And sunny-bright night skies?
The night is waning, hot and pestering
And yet here you are, focused
On swirling patterns, lonely and desolate
Compromised by constant change, patterns
Of moving objects forever alone,
Forever displaced
In a sky too bright
In a place too quiet
With a man too lonely
In a place too distant.



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