Alone inside a sacred isolation
Gasping for a brief connexion
In his car with windows down
On a cold winters morn
Why must this torture occur
Blasting a phase of music
A turn, gazing at someone
Its as close as he comes
Windows tinted, blocks sight
Being so cold, but immune to it
Penance for past wrong doings
The cold wind forgives him
Yet he is alone, crying
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