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The moon.



I could see the moon tonight,

So clear, a cloudless sky,

the glowing ball of light,

that metaphor of dreams,

and songs,

of love and life,

but I could never reach and touch that sight.

And as I walk through streets,

a thousand windows,

some with shutters,

blinds and curtains,

pulled so tight,

occasionally a room,

some shelves are filled with books,

others, wall mounted screens,

a face ,

a man and woman fight,

a father sits,

the anger of his wife,

I cannot know what lies within,

those hopes, those fears, those dreams

I return,

this is my life,

I see her eyes,

something at which I think I seldom gaze,

what lies behind,

As alien to me as all those rooms,

that face I thought I understood,

so distant now it seems,

what lies behind, those moistened globes of light,

as distant as the moon,

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