She waits and waits.
Loneliness waits
With her.
In a crowded room
Of succulent delicacies
Hearty laughters
And bodies
Swirling suggestively in smoke
To music;
Loneliness and she
Search
For an enveloping arm
A smile to drown in.
Loneliness watches her exist:
A freshly plucked petal
Soiled on the ground
Sweetness fading fast
Freshness seeping away.
Why does she look like
A virgin whose heart
Shattered
Over her lover's death?
How much longer must
Loneliness wait and wait?
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