To still love the one
Who wants to be somewhere else
Is my just reward

We have many trees
Mocking us with their green leaves
Though stuck as we are.

A paid holiday
Is meager compensation
Not being with him

You seem happy though
I know not where the secret
Purpose hides itself

The emptiness sits
Day In and day out safely
Bringing the bacon

But sad is a life
With no hope for a heaven
When all else are gone

Loneliness my friend
Is a pain so exquisite
Reserved for the rich

Deer in the desert
To be lonely, not alone
Is being with you.