Once Was

I want to be held, touched, but there is only empty pain
Voids, holes, a missing part of my doughnut
The best part, gone
I was wrong assuming
The hole would be filled
That I’d ever, find something I considered, could be shared
Never meant to be anything
I thought was something
All wrapped up in nothing
That only once was.
by
Angela K. Crandall
©10/9/15

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By rebel4universal2acceptance Posted in Poetry

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