Standing Alone, Apart
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Standing alone, apart, in another world my mind came
to rest on a stone unhurled.
Restless as the day without it's dawn, hopelessly I
looked on.
Grass falls crumpled on the ground, as I step upon
it with sod filled shoes.
Tearing into the iciness of a night's cold hard trek
I fight relentlessly, this thing I cannot touch.
What is a life? Or what is it's use? When dying we
have nothing to remember about it?
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