Wasted in transit,
I am sitting on a bench,
Drying my tears,
In the blowing wind,
My head heavy, i droop.
The dampness of being,
Engulfs my soul,
Drawing me into depths,
Into unknown hollows,
Wrapped in time.
I thought it could be so,
Or rather that it would,
But the morning,
Is no longer the same,
And the night too cold.
I yearn for some warmth,
I lost a while ago,
So i sit here alone,
Sighing with the wind,
Hoping to find a better day.
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