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April 18, 2019

 

you sit before your lunches

friends beside each other

voices interspersing victuals

in conversations long going on

 

sitting here, my seat aloof

I am beside but not beside

your conversations spill over

into my inconsolable silence

 

apart, I hear your high words

of your concerns and cares

of your joy in building another

to their stronger stand in faith

 

here I sit, dead, dying and amazed

at your unawareness of my pain

wondering why your words of care

never help me stand more strongly

 


Each New Day A Miracle
Copyright Peter Rhebergen
All rights reserved