I don’t need your money and I don’t need your physical touch. I don’t need your stern demeanor, or your cold, silent hush. I don’t need your unwanted sarcasm, which cuts me to the bone. I don’t need anything, which makes me feel alone. 

I do need unfailing kindness, which wakes my inner soul. I do need heartfelt compassion, that will last til I am old. I do need arms to hold me, when I’m scared and feel unsure. I do need ample patience, when I am yielding towards the door.

For you see, my heart is fragile. This, I thought you knew. To handle it with caution, be gentle, caring too. 

Penelope 

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