
I wake up
Somedays
Missing her
Beyond
Anything
That could be imagined
Missing
The days I learn little trinkets
Of her existence
Missing
The delusion
That keeps her perfect
I will always long
For someone I never knew
And sometimes that is the hardest
Bit of everything
Missing the pride
That might never have been
The hugs
That were never asked for
I’ll always wake up
With a piece of her
Stuck to me
Wishing
I send you a very big hug full of affection! 🤗🤗🤗❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😘
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❤️ thank you ❤️
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❤️❤️❤️🤗
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🖤🖤🖤
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❤️
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You know what makes your lines good? The truth of them. They are speaking out to someone. That I miss in most poetry elsewhere. I´’ve come to this post after reading through my WP feed (poets’ quotations, amateurs, and so). The idea’s hit me that there’s a lot of intellectual stuff in the way of a poet’s inspiration nowadays (or too much imposture, not meaning to be there, most likely) , or at least I don’t get to understand it or relate to it. Your lines are felt and I relate to the feeling though experiences surely differ, but the emotion, the feeling… That I like. Whatever has to do intellectuality with composing from one’s heart and mind, I wonder. I needed to say it 💚🌱
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Thank you for saying it. What I write is definitely what I feel. Sometimes, because this is the way I do it, I have found I need to step back, but I will always return because I will always feel. Your words mean a tremendous amount to me ☺️
Being heard in this noisy world is such a gift, thank you ❤️
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I do hear you. Yes, this is a much too noisy world, a loud one. Thank you, too 💚
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❤️
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