Walking back from somewhere
Where time frittered away
Has left me with nothing to look forward to.
Like tracing my finger
On a thin circle line
No leeway,
Unable to reach out
Or deviate
The dampness of the grass
Setting into my feet
As I wait for the sun to fall
Knowing I will have to go back
Avoiding glances from strangers in the dark
As I trudge home
Heavy bag, its drawstring
Resting on my weary shoulder
And icy arms from the night
No warmth to cheer me up
Only material and objects
Nothing human
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