To know what to say,
or whether to say it.
To loose one’s breast-felt feelings
before their season fails.
To decide
what is fitting,
or might damage,
be ignored,
or be spurned.
Suffer, does the fool,
for the promise of love,
while ships pass by in midnight’s glove.
Aremyfeetofftheground 
Really great use of poetics for when words fail us. Metaphor isn’t much needed either; vagaries are aptly suitable and this is one of the only cases of life when that’s true. It’s not taken lightly but the feelings of absolutely not knowing how to react or what to even say is very clear. Talk about oxymorons!
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Yes, we fools, even the old ones, have things pent up that need dealing with.
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