Here I stand, blank and mute
Unaware that contentment would be this acute.
Awkward in silence, and afraid to speak,
Apprehensive that a thought vocalized would trigger my own critique.
Amazed, and curious, however afraid to ask,
Despite my satisfaction, what made you turn back.
Desperate with the gift of your presence, I push the endless tears behind,
Helter-skelter with enduring questions that coninue to plague my mind.
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