Maybe it’s to be apart,
Untroubled in the solitude.
Maybe it’s to doubt
That as I chip it all away
Somehow I shape a better kind
Of self exhausted of mistakes.
Suppose it’s resignation
And the mild sort of loneliness
That molds me bittersweet,
Some dim reflection of
Those gloomy tropes whose
Freedoms rest on murky skies
And glassy pavement.
Maybe just a trife away from
When the winter
Weather breaks.

#London #UK

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