It is strange to think,I have not seen you in a month.
I have seen the new moon,but not you.
I have seen sunsets and sunrises,but nothing of your beautiful face.
The pieces of my broken heart can pass through the eye of a needle.
I miss you like the sun misses the flower.Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter.
Instead of beauty to direct its light to,the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has sent me to.
I next compete in Paris.I'll find it empty and cold if you're not there.
Hope guides me.It gets me through the day and especially the night.The hope that after you leave my sight it will not be the last time I look upon you.
Copyright © Pretend Its Poetry | Year Posted 2014