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Nameless Bird

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I do not have a voice
that can change the world,
nor the wealth
to buy its vicious joys.
I do not own
the warmth of the one
I thought I loved,
nor a friend’s shoulder
to forget the grief
of being unwanted.
All I can call my own
is the comfort in the song
of the nameless bird
that brings me back,
every morning,
from the land of oblivion.



  1. Goodness! I love your posts! Amazing!

    Liked by 1 person

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