selfrealization
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I've come to fear the hours of 7 to 9,
as they bring with them gray and mournful moments.
They bring longing and foggy loneliness
from outside, most days.
Music is everywhere:
In the grass,
In the wind,
In the books,
In the kin.
Even without acknowledment
they play their tunes,
not looking for acceptance,
nor appreciation.
