I sometimes hear of outcasts
Who look on from without,
Remembering when they had friends
And much, much less of doubt --
The painful memories that come
Alone, and in seclusion,
Of all of the connectedness
They lost with their exclusion.
But my life has been different
I'll say it, once again:
I've never been an outcast,
For I was never
In
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Tagged: Tags Autobiography Life Poetry Relationships
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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