These Are The Things

On the first night,
I cried for the loss,
The sudden void in me:
These are the things.

On the second night,
I cried for the denial,
The insistent hope in me:
These are the things.

On the third night,
I did not cry,
But in the morning, I closed my eyes,
And felt the warm tear roll down my face:
These are the things.

On the fourth, and the fifth, and the following,
I cannot tell for sure,
Let me live through this day first:
These are the things.

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