Someone once told me that I’m like the air

A silent observer

A careful watcher

Letting myself be known to others

Only when I want them to.

He may be right

But he is so painfully wrong.

Yes, I am like the air.

Unseen, unheard

Felt only but occasionally.

I’m around you

But until I give it my all

You won’t notice.

I’m not that air

The one that carries the scent of spring flowers

Or the aroma of lovingly cooked spread.

No, I’m not one of those air

That remind you of love, home, happiness.

I’m that which reeks of failure and regret,

Of moss and mold,

Of a room kept shut for years too long.

Yes, I’m like the air

Silent and invisible,

My presence lost on you.


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