This then is my truest of truths:
I miss you in my waking hours
when night is gone and morning comes
for then there are no magical dreams
to which I may once more succumb.
I miss you as the coldest of spring rain
falls upon my tarnished grey soul
wishing it would wash away this pain
to fill my loss and make me whole.
I miss you, so there it’s been said
this then is my truest of truths
there will be dreary dark days ahead
as my lonely heart does its best to soothe.
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg