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why i cried, almost

because she sat alone
facing out
hands bony and cracked with spite -
informing the server she sat
and ate
so early
because she had to catch the symphony -
beethoven, she believed.
she laughed at what there was left to laugh of this world,
and in shattered silence consumed the food prepared for a queen -
not her -
and begged for attention,
begging to be loved, and enjoyed, and soon - remembered -
begging to an empty memory
of what those used to feel like.
"this was my birthday dinner, and it was very good"
she remarked to the server.  
"oh, well, happy birthday" the server replied in an automated response.

19 Apr 07

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poor old bird.
nice sympatheticpoem
 — chuckles