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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