I have a little red leatherbound book in my house, it has beautiful heavy paper for each page, it was a gift from someone who knows I love to write. I am going to fill if not with beautiful words at least with emotionally charged words, some as red as the cover, others as innocent as the white pages. All I write in the book will be posted here, at some stage or another. Here is the first poem.

Please read the summary.

Are you with me?
Disengaged from this world.
Not quite part of it all.
Come with me,
we won't be friends
detached together.
We'll look at soceity
from a distance.
Laugh at them all,
cry that we're not part
and long to be them

or happy.

The End

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