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For the lonely


To Alana Ingle.
Photo by Alana Ingle.

Hunched at a keyboard, deep in thought,
the quiet girl who's lost at home -
she's past all care for what she's taught;
tonight, around the world she'll roam
where people she will never meet
write funny things; or if they hate
it's easy enough to click 'delete',
and make their words abate.

But every now and then she'll find
a caring heart who'll listen long,
that tells her something warm and kind
which thrills her like a distant song.
In days they come, in weeks they go,
adding, deleting, losing care,
one minute, friends you really know,
another, no one's there.

The internet is not so hot;
here for a moment, next thing, gone.
But if that's all the friends you've got,
it's better far than none.


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