Not Yet Content -an original poem

How could it be so natural
To speak to you the way I do?
Why is it like breathing
To give you all of my time,
And spend my meager moment
Staring deeply in your eyes,
Only to receive it back as gold refined?
Could I dare call it a waste if,
Though none of my work was done,
I spent all hours with you?
Surely not.
Instead I call on God to still the sun,
And give me just one more hour.

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