Waiting Him Poem by Natasa To

I am waiting him like soil need water.
Like the mid-night waiting the morning of the sunshine.
Like the prisoner waiting the last day out.
Like the wife waiting the husband in Iraq combat.
I am waiting him in the teardrops of my eyes.
The happiness is never coming in his own good
I am waiting him in the minute or the second of my life.
My love for him like the teenager.
Leaving the country, Never know when he comes back.
Let me wait him until one hundred years,
I still wait him.