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Wallflower

The wall behind me,
The people in front.
Which to choose?
The cold, hard stone.
The cold,hard stares.
I blend in until I'm nothing.
The crowd forgotten
as I fall into a deeper chasm.
I am myself, and I'm part of the wall.
Its frigid rock calls me,
embraces me in a marble hug.
Yet I don't forget the faces,
the voices, the souls.
I wish to join, to dance, to sing.
But how?
When I am at one with the wall
how do I break away?
How to I join the revelers,
alight in their festivities.
The answer:
I don't. I watch, I observe.
I fall back into stone cold oblivion,
and it cradles me like a baba in it's arms.
I blend in. I watch, I observe.
For I am a wallflower...




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