The Moaning Mourner
Sometimes I reach for you and find an empty space,
In the once warm places,
Where you used to lie,
I moan and sigh,
Mourning you so intensely that I wish to die,
Just so that I
Wont have to say:
"I miss you" for yet another day.
A whole person you've left burning,
Now broken and scattered with yearning,
For a face that never floats by,
That has ripped the moon from my sky,
Leaving an oasis devoid and dry,
Without even a goodbye.
But as the sun preens in its prime,
We shone brightly,beautifully and then ran out of time.
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