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Above It All MAG
Sometimes she sits
Alone in her chair
Watching
Watching him move
Across the room
His carefree, strolling gate
That seems to hardly care
A tear slips from her eye and
Rolls
Down her cheek
Not that he cares
For he is long gone now
The glance slid off her figure
As he wandered by
Onto a subject
So much more angelic
Pure
Worthy of his gaze
The single tear splashed
Unheard
Upon the ground
As she folded in on her
Unimpressive figure
Her hair falling
To cover the glisten of pain
Upon her face
People say she is
Above it all
Condescending
If only they knew
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