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Click hereI sit on the sidelines of his life,
It is my place and I do not object.
I hear him when he talks of his children,
And how I long for him to talk thus of mine.
But it is not to be,
It is my place and I do not object.
I think of him last thing at night,
As I slip over the edge and fall in to sleep.
I do not ask if he thinks of me,
It is not my place and I do not object.
I think of him throughout the day,
When I have ideas,
Or see something I think he’d like.
I cannot tell him,
It is not my place and I do not object.
I know where my place is.
At his feet,
When he lets me,
Making his life easier.
Loving him,
Though he does not love me.
That is my place and I do not object.