I walk a lonely path. My constant companion is the pain in my heart. I guard my pain as a priceless treasure. Never to be truly happy or to be loved. I love but never to be loved back. As I wander in my home, I find myself looking in the mirror. Seeing myself I realize I will always be alone. Then I think, since no one calls me or tries to see how I am, when I die, How long will it take before they find my body?
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