There is so much to be
Yet in your absence, there is nothing but sorrow
For one such as me
Steadfast and headstrong
Unable to weep at
Some days are better
I can feel the hurt of longing
Other days I feel numb
For the torment is unending
If I could ever gather my own self
I shall hurl it your way
To break like a ming vase
Hurled into a million directions.