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I've gone away from this carnival Earth,

far from its honky-tonks and bars,

so far the Franklin Roosevelt's on the radio,

having fireside chats among the stars.

I travel enclosed in my bubble of warmth,

into the depths of the Great Empty Cold,

so that I can look back to whence I came

and discover what feelings unfold.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder,

for separation makes us sad.

So why this retreat from what I love?

In what way could it make me glad?

Sitting in the dark outside the camp,

looking back at the campfire's light,

I contemplate my social noplace

and know my sacrifice is right.

In my silent solitude emotions cease to rage

and little by little logic decides which I should engage.

Wisdom grows in the cosmic dark, though I suspect it's not my own.

For though my solitude is complete, I know I am never alone.


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