Sitting all alone, Flesh and bone by the telephone. Waiting for someone,anyone, to call, for the Loneliness, pressing down on you is , unbearable.
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Published by Reavyyn in category Poetry with tag dead | Love | Mother | pain
Sitting all alone, Flesh and bone by the telephone. Waiting for someone,anyone, to call, for the Loneliness, pressing down on you is , unbearable.