I’m sorry.
I don’t think my poem
Can keep you alive.
If a river of woe
Overruns your banks,
My words
Will not be enough.
I will do my best
To sit with you
And watch the sunrise
Together
One last time.
Maybe you will hear my whisper
That you were never alone.
Ah, I know that feeling: that words will never be enough, that it is only the unsaid that might be able to help. Very melancholy feel to this, but not entirely resigned.
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Yeah, sorry it was a bit dark. But when I thought about the prompt as literally as possible, words are a comfort, but can only go so far. Thanks!
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I am glad there is some hope in the sunrise and the whisper in the final lines.
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Sorry it was all a bit dark! I know the prompt was meant to be positive.
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What a reassurance of friendship. Well written.
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Thank you!
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Actually if it ends in brightness the darkness is all forgiven.
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Yes.
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A beautiful write 💜 Words can pale into insignificance compared to the comfort of silent companionship.
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Thanks.
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It is probably the friend being there more so than words that counts.
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Sometimes just being there is the right approach. Your poem is that of a gentle soul.
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Thank you!
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