here i sit
alone at home
listening to music
writing this poem
wondering why
after all these years
there is not love
just lonely tears
what about me
cannot be loved
i wonder as i write
this chilly night
why has it eluded me
i who have so much
capacity
to love and be loved in return
and yet denied this
my eyes still burn
from tears shed by an
aching heart
yearning for its
matching part
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