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Click hereI wait up till the morning
hours in hope and fear of
you and dawn coming together.
For if night is the absence of light,
barring moon, stars, street, and head lamps,
with morning may I see too much?
And if true to self can woman
by being false be true to me?
Casts light on the candle of hope, slowly burning, trying to illuminate a shady place and time.
Really heart-wrenching piece about aspiration and frustration of things turning out in a different way.
Thanks for sharing