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Tonight my book is meaningless;
Poems leer at me from the paper,
malice stretched across the page.
Tonight these words will not enrich me.
Tonight I put my work aside.
It has become empty, hollow.
Tonight there will be no conversations,
no dialogue, witty or otherwise.
Tonight no movie is worth watching,
No game could be worth playing.
Masturbation would be futile,
Tonight I will find no pleasure
in my possessions or activities.
Tonight I am simply lonely.
Tonight I will watch television.