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Fences And
Walls
Sometimes
In the quiet times
Pondering over that
First cappuccino,
One gets to mentally
Prodding the peripheries
Of the lives of people
One is fortunate enough
To have the privilege
Of knowing and not
Really knowing,
The fences, the
Enclosures, the mazes
Built
all around keep
Even lovers outside,
Now and then poking
About on an outer wall
One finds a crack,
Only to see another
Camouflage when
Peeking through,
Strange sometimes
The places and sights
Your thoughts
Take you into.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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