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a necessity?
sometimes when i'm standing there
chin in hand
i want to be like them
and i feel so left out
that i want to leave
it's hard for me to admit
this is hard for me
when the only excitement of my day
is cleaning off the dirty handprints
left over from the lunch rush
left over on the glass door
that gets my undivided attention for two hours
when someone walks in
i randomly think of emily dickinson
"maybe my smile is precisely their necessity"
or maybe i'm trying to appear more important than i am
