Outgoing Call is Forwarded

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was written on the last evening I spent in my apartment before I moved. I was dealing with a lot of emotions that night.

Submitted: July 10, 2008

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Submitted: July 10, 2008

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Those who said they loved me were the first to reject me.
Now watching the summer leaves on the trees flashing and flying, I just felt the emptiness set in. 
The goodbye is over, time moves on, leaving me behind. 
Oh tomorrow, oh tomorrow, what will you bring, but the realization that there is only me, alone, letting the length of time wrap around my neck in an invisible noose.
Tears have been replaced by bitterness, the slow hardening of soul that is surrounded by what is left of the life once led, has begun.
It all ends as it began and was all along.
The same view outside of my window, the tree in the front yard, the same houses across the street.  The only difference is the soul looking out on it all, the soul that was not saved, though was changed.
Into what, is yet to be discovered.


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