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With not enough kindness around

It was impossible for her to stay

Packed all her possessions in a suitcase

And left on that day

I drove her to the station

She tipped generously

She never looked back

At  last she was free.



She was lost and confused

She was hurting inside

She looked up to the ceiling

To delay the tears from her eyes

He was leaving.

Holding Hands

You raise her
You treasure her
You protect her
Until she stops holding your hand
Soon she will be holding someone else’s hand
And you will have to let her go.



A friend is one
To whom one may pour
Out all the contents
Of one’s heart
Chaff and grain together
Knowing that the
Gentlest of hands
Will take and sift it
Keep what is worth keeping
And with a breath of kindness
Blow the rest away
( Denise )

Stan’s Thoughts