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Wednesday, 19 October 2011

CHOOSING NOISE

He sits, staring at his drink or maybe beyond it,
eyes fixed on something, someone, sometime,
undisturbed by the bustle and chatter around his table,
by himself in a crowded pub at lunchtime.


He sits ramrod-straight, face shielded by a cap's peak,
preferring to be lonely in this busy watering hole
rather than alone in the solitude of his bedsit,
choosing noise he can ignore over silence that eats at his soul.

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