Emulating Hurt

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When you are in need of me the most,
I am here, on my own,
Playing racquet games, burning
Mosquitoes and midnight oil,
Whispering to myself that you are alright.

Close my eyes, to feel the pain that you
Feel as it passes touching your bones, your spine:
I recall watching as they moved from side to side
— The unassured world in your eyes —
Mapping, as they were, a world stalled shaken.

Just a spectator on the side — like I have
Never been: standing outside the reel
Watching minute after minute passing by:
Comparing it with worlds bombed and blown —
Of hurts that were not ones your own.

Till on the morrow, until we meet again
I sigh, that your expectations I bruised,
Considered wisely, but let down:
That, on that train is where my overalls should be,
Slow walking at you, now.



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