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Conclusion
They sometimes clamoured
For a conclusion
Although the silent consensus
Was that seldom is
There such a thing,
Deep down they knew
The brain, the mind, the heart
Hide so many compartments,
Little rooms, stairways,
Doors that could
Come ajar letting thoughts
And memories, what ifs,
Drift into current thinking,
The source of a sudden smile
The unexpected melancholy,
That fine thin thread that
Keeps lovers forever connected.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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