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Lonely acquaintance
Looking out the dirty old
window, a billion stories
unfold,
A car rushing by in the
rain, obsessed with
meeting a loved one..
An empty swing still
moving
with hints of innocent
childhood ...
The reflection of a
wrecked heart,
Judging itself harder than
anyone else,
Wrapped up in warm
sheets with a billion
hands to hold, yet
shivering..
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When we talk about our expectations of others, we try to see ourselves through others eyes, leading to us getting hurt most of the times. This poem talks about how it's okay sometimes to sit and talk about yourself, to see the world through your own eyes and let them see you for what you are.