The Poetry Book

Gone

I spend my days in solitude thinking of you

Wondering what should be said next

Sometimes it's obvious what I should do

So I write my words and send a text

Eyes glued to the screen, I sit and wait

Time passes me by as I sit in silence

Soon the hours grow short and it is late

The quietness becomes filled with violence

I persist in waiting, knowing something will come

As I cling onto hope's frail hand

The thoughts of you soon become numb

As my new discovery is grand

Tears flood my eyes when I see the dawn

As now I realize that you are gone