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I
seek out melancholy from time to time.
I am not sure why?
It satisfies a need I cannot see,
some thing deep inside of me.
A sense of mistreatment perhaps?
A recognition that life is hard …and that I must measure up.
Melancholy is the universe listening with an empathetic ear,
caressing, suppressing, a developing dry tear.
It is a gentle voice calling my name, tuning me into larger things,
resonating sadness, beauty, peril, and an unspoken hopelessness I sometimes
see in life.
Sharing my plight, something close I can’t seem to place,
elusiveness, darkness, a sense of grace.
It is better that it remains in the shadows there for me to draw upon
in my lows.
A melodic drug, with which to dwell for a time,
a rhythm to relate to, indulgent and intense,
solving nothing, speaking sad, lonely, comforting sense.
I seek out melancholy from time to time,
maybe because it gives solace to me,
a place,
I can simply …be.
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