Caring
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Not used to being home all day. Too much time to think

I used to fix each stumble, fall,
A silent helper, on their call.
I’d lift them up, then fade from view,
But who would do the same for you?
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TheYawnArchive · 46-50, M
Beautiful poem .... yeah thinking can drive a person crazy, i'm already at the crazy realm, not the good kind, but not dangerous, more pathetic and regrettable kind.