Deep and meaningful' conversations.
These days there seem to be no victories,
No marches in triumph between a roaring crowd:
Only the sad parade of sorrow,
The sounds of pain keening on a carrying breeze.
Your friend’s eyes full of sympathy,
Ears catching your confessing words:
But behind the attentive face
He waits the time
To match your grief with his.
poem by Roy William Gotaas
Added by Poetry Lover
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