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Never too old to hurt...I look down deep to try to find
some compassion in an arid land,
and wondered if in my lonely soul
they might find their long lost role.
But welling up like a bubbling stream
pain and longing as a living dream,
my loss is so loud and ringing clear
profoundly shaken and clinging near
a child who wished she might be better
more loved and worthy, valued and clever.
Never more sadder and weary as dust
settles on hopes that turn to rust...
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