No, I’m serious, I have been waiting.
All this time spent in dread and hope,
Looking at you and within me hiding,
Dreading the fireworks of futures show.
And now I, foolish, look to you to see,
If what irksome trait you own so without
Is all that lives in you substantially,
Or maybe more is in you than you shout.
Bad for me? So many…few…say,
But what of this red chemists fiery blow?
I guess now that I’m leaving you today
We’ll part ways now, and later never know.
For in the garden, weeds are twined in rose,
And through my heart your never-chancing goes.
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