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Dull stood sorry then winked Away his message to his mind. He stood alone and took his Hand across his battered chest, Wondering if he or anyone Could replace the loss he suffered. The word had come mingling in His jelly kind of mind. He had not heard it – Had not heard one syllable. He crept kindly to his Sorry soul and winked At the candle by his elbow Careful not to blow it out. The flame flickered and leaped At the ceiling tracing elongated Shadows over his sad memories As he looked down from the bridge And wishes he was not dull Or shattered in this fashion.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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