The Silence
April 18, 2016
So, this is a very short, very simple poem I wrote at 1:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, when I was sitting alone in my room and I just felt the urge to do so. Take a gander, won't you?
I sit in silence
Waiting
Watching
Searching
For you.
Patiently
I hope
I dream
I wish
I see.
You appear
Magical
Resplendent
I stare
Disbelieving.
How can this be?
I ask
Expecting nothing
No reply
Yet you’re there.
A missing piece
A part of me
I keep hidden
In your presence
It blooms.
I was nothing
Incomplete
Unworthy
Stagnant
Until I met you.
Now I sit
In darkness
Wondering
Seeking
Thinking of you.
The silence
Speaks to me
I listen
I decipher
I discover
And all I hear…
All I see...
Is you.
So, this is a very short, very simple poem I wrote at 1:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, when I was sitting alone in my room and I just felt the urge to do so. Take a gander, won't you?
I sit in silence
Waiting
Watching
Searching
For you.
Patiently
I hope
I dream
I wish
I see.
You appear
Magical
Resplendent
I stare
Disbelieving.
How can this be?
I ask
Expecting nothing
No reply
Yet you’re there.
A missing piece
A part of me
I keep hidden
In your presence
It blooms.
I was nothing
Incomplete
Unworthy
Stagnant
Until I met you.
Now I sit
In darkness
Wondering
Seeking
Thinking of you.
The silence
Speaks to me
I listen
I decipher
I discover
And all I hear…
All I see...
Is you.
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