Withdraw, commence.

A quietness embroils me as I answer the ring.
An urge seeps from the deep red; how I’d make you aware
the troubles of which you silently inflict.
But is it not me, the one with trouble,
who chooses to spotlight yours?
Where is the line of morality drawn on who is
wrong and who is right? Tell me, please.
I want not to drown in the sea of waste; no ‘what if’.
But what if you sought to unravel me?
It is a wise father that knows his own child.
I would repel this feeling within if I could,
but innateness disallows the intellect’s reasoning,
the mind allows no free flow of riddance.
But thanks I must give as you teach me,
not of the menial things,
but of the challenge held within restraint,
and of tolerance and unconditional love.
For it’s the latter of which holds us bound.


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