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This poem was written way back in January of 1975 (I was just getting
back, or had just gotten home from my Army service in Germany).
Out here all by myself,
Nothing to do or say. It's hard to reach others, When you sink more everyday. To talk to others around me Who's ears are all but deaf, Who's eyes refuse to see, That I'm drowning in the depths. Is there any need for me, To feel so useless - so alone? No, I am strong and soon, To myself I'll be coming home.
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