Come Back Soon Poem by John Florio

Your so-called five days is like five decades,
How to state my conditions, in which grades;
My heart refuses to beat, and is still and cold,
I'm almost half-dead, but no one can behold.
Lacked of your warmth and out of your shade,
Thinking about why and for what I was made;
Happiness looks afar — a thousand miles away,
Gripped by sorrows, burning like the dried hay.
Every second is like a year full of pain to me,
So hard to endure, and impossible to be free;
I'm gazing your path to have a glimpse of you,
But it looks like a dream, I'm trying to pursue.
My eyes have dried up the sea of tears;
That I had collected in those long years.