Quietly

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Quietly

Dusty Farkworth
11-15-2002
(c) 2002

I listen quietly to the pleas of others,

wives, mothers, sisters and lovers.

As they tell their tales of grief and woe,

forgotten in the hearts and minds,

of those they truely love so.

Fearing some where they've been left behind.

Tear stained pillows are all that remain,

as love slowly dwindles and dies in vain.

Pleading hearts and streched forth hands,

searching for someone to listen in this a promised land.

My heart hears their pleas as I listen quietly,

and I can't help but cry as their stories touch me.

Crying softly deep inside,

for those who have loved and are tossed aside.

Hoping that in some small way,

to help them along their way.

That through my efforts be they small,

that they may see the beauty shine forth in us all.

That they might not give up on love or man.

Remember one thing as we travel this path,

as your friend you'll never have reason to feel my wrath,

for those who have hurt you and caused so much pain.

And as life continues my friendship remains.

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