Busy Nothings
She waited her husband to come home
She missed those nights of romance and she felt alone
Nights of reminiscing
Her husband is a busy thing
Nothing happens but a cold stare
She cook the food
He sat down and eat
She handed him a coffee
He took a sip
She asked, how was your sleep?
He ignored, eyes on the keyboard
She sighed
He waved goodbye
Busy nothings he don't mind.
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