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If I had faced then the lonely hall,
The black entrance into my own absence
If I had not lifted the phone to call
Each acquaintance, would I be so tense

But my urge to love and live is so immense
These cradling arms of plastic only stale
And I am ridiculous and intense
And all rejection like a ragman’s bale

With waves of pain beating on the wall
Crying to someone, somewhere, to speak sense -
My questionable right to love you all
Somehow in absence, seems that more intense,

Yet can be measured in this dying squall,
As I am waiting for your questioning call.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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Date: 6/27/2016 8:57:00 AM
Rosemary - intensely expressed, and, I believe, an accurate statement of the human condition. Your poem is clever and very different describing the need for love in reverse-- that is, helping us realize our condition when it is absent. Nicely done, Rosemary, and thanks for sharing it.
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Date: 2/15/2015 8:03:00 AM
A sonnet well written here, Rosemarie. well done!
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