![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/7e479d05d6e340e890bb5f4245eca025.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_570,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/7e479d05d6e340e890bb5f4245eca025.jpg)
It was me who was missing in my life.
I caught myself during a passing storm,
I held tight,
though the ropes were wet and rough.
I dried myself in the spring breeze,
the sun warm and inviting.
How could I misplace something so vital?
It was a trap, a trick,
I was lulled to sleep,
then awakened,
by the storm.
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