In the quiet garden of hope, I patiently wait,
For the flower of affection to bloom at its own rate.
Her petals unfurl slowly, not rushed by desire,
A gentle process, stoked by love's tender fire.
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Let go and let God sort it out,
If the things you wanted in life had any clout,
You wouldn't be filled with so much doubt,
Wondering if you've chosen the right route.
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