singing softly,
as he sweeps the floor
of your room?
do you hear
the whirr of
the butterfly’s wings,
flying just outside your window?
do you hear
the silence of the rain,
falling just outside your door?
do you hear
the beating of the heart,
rhyming yours,
filling the void with light?
it’s just me…
let me in!

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Always asking, Why?
Wondering if their hearts
Are made of Stone,
As life’s rivers dry,
Emptiness does choke
With unheard, sigh
The errant heart,
The lonely heart,
The broken heart
That softly cries,
That softly dies
Never, having found,
A loving Home.

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