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My hollow eyes still bleed
For those who will not come
But kneel and wonder now
Upon another’s door,
Behind my cold facade
An aching heart still lives
Arrhythmic sleepless pulse
Beats to an ancient tune,
Within my hallowed shell
Your memories I hold
Like children to the breast
And secrets never told,
To me your eyes are blind
My tears are mine alone
And still I wait in vain
For those who will not come.

(The inspiration (and title) for this poem comes from a couple of post by Chris Renney (thanks Chris!). Check out her work at Spartan Eye.)

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