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Solitude

Chattering voices all around.
Laughs of joke, of joy abound.
A single form, sits alone.
His thoughts as dark as the
feathered wing, crow.
The many the more,
the more he's alone.
A chill of good will
cuts to his bone.
Loneliness is his

only companion.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Aashish Ameya 28 January 2008

you describe solitude very well, but why he is lonely is not clear to me...

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