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GlassAny excuse to be nearby.
To get a glimpse. To catch her eye.
She looks my way but does not see.
For I am glass. She looks through me.
She touches him, his hand, his hair.
I close my eyes. I cannot bear.
Why not me? Do I ask to much?
Am I glass? Am I cold to touch?
I held her once. We were as one.
Somehow our life became undone.
Why did I think true love mattered.
I am glass. Broken and shattered.
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