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This Ghost.
the ghost of me walks alone
looking neither right or left
up or down.
sorrow walks beside this ghost
of i.
for what could have been
for what id hoped to be
to love, a love like thee.
my thoughts thought of love
my heart beat of it
but you didn, t feel it
you left me heartbroken
as you left me broken
now this ghost of me
walks the sorrow corridors
of my mind.
weeping at the good times
thinking of what should
have been.
poem
by
Graham Russell
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