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My Solitude

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How piteous I am,
that I must walk alone.
How weary is my solitude
along the road back home.

For I belong to no one,
forlorn and tossed aside.
A lonely shred of driftwood
besieged by rising tides.

And though the path is taciturn,
a trail for one alone,
the zest of life is only there
when men are on their own.




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