Soft breezes
rustling through the trees is
such a melancholy thought.
A feeling of such that cannot be fought,
I was taught to live alone,
strictly relying on the ring of a telephone.
I miss you most at night.
The darkness is something I cannot fight.
I know that soon the days will end,
and my heart will find a mend.
But until then,
I fend this absence,
until I see
the light of a day.