A haiku?

the sound of your name,
sits like an unsung note
on the edge of my tongue-
dangling at the border, a refugee to be,
desperate to become a song to be sung.

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Forebodings

Constant state of dilemma,
Fussing over incapabilities;
Questioning her own strengths,
Caught in a downstream
Whirl of existence,
Holding on patiently;
For the things to go right,
To decode her own destiny.