The Ignored

The kind are ignored, their deeds drift silently through the day never to be noticed.

There is no recognition for what they have done.

Only they will know.

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Stars

As I look out of that familiar window, I can see the stars once again.

How many times have I gazed upon them?

Hundreds, thousands, more?

I find many of my answers from these silent guides. They are always there, consistently watching over everything that was and everything that will be.

To be a star in the sky would be nothing short of a miracle. Think of what you would see, think of all the memories that would be gifted to you.

I wish the stars could talk, if they did, I wonder what would they say?