Gratitude is born in hearts that take time to count up past mercies.
Charles E. Jefferson
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what might have been
mornings like this when the moon spills
lighting my room
dark
still
alone
only the clock breaks this quiet
i think of you
i wonder at His plan
i wish
and wish
but deep inside
if i look
really stop and feel
this longing for you
whole
what might have been
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