Two paces lone I take,
Me shoulders drawn with pride,
To lift me chin and make
These two steps me guide.
Faces pass weary and pale,
Same hues as dusk’s embrace,
Perhaps a stroll through the square
To banish sorrow’s trace.
Like a wandering hound,
With false assurance I stray,
Meandering all around,
Yet concealing me dismay.
Only two paces more
To find me way at last
For ‘tis not sleep I deplore
But knowing I could, alas.
Paces
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