The Lonely

The lonely sit and the lonely wait,

the lonely stew in their lonely state.

The lonely sit in lonely thought,

waiting for their lonely hearts to rot.

The lonely cry with silent tears,

the lonely are burdened with many fears.

The lonely pray and the lonely die,

and the lonely stay down as they try.

Wrecked and broken the lonely wither,

listening to death’s call: “Come hither.”

Trapped in the shadows the lonely wait,

growing and breathing in the hate.

We have all and they have not,

the lonely are who we all forgot.

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