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first love observation |
Sunday, April 17, 2005 A stranger I set apart He sat there contently. Or was he searching for feeling? Or pausing on a thought? His eyes were glazed and nothing seemed to matter but the cigarette resting between his thin fingers, the wind agitating its embers, and the smoke curling from his lips. His voice was like a sad ghost's. A voice that could calm a screaming baby, or break someone's heart. If only for a day he was a stranger I set apart. |