Scribbles of Me

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I walked along a crowded road
as far as eyes could see
and kindly put out my hand
as so many reached for me.

But this walk of life is puzzling,
though warm our fingers entwined
they did not fit, it should be the end of it
but I rationalized away in my mind.

Alas the one that held the key
was always there, walking silently
with his hands in his pockets the whole time.

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