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There are times that the walls
There are times that the walls
of the bedroom wants to fold in,
when sheer loneliness becomes too much
and the power of love focuses on loss
as if nothingness wants to fill the whole body
and we are stripped naked by it,
when it concentrates on love that still survives,
lingers while death have robbed us
and we yearn for something new,
for someone unknown.
poem
by
Gert Strydom
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