Don'T Hurt Me On Sunday. Poem by Eman Awad

They told me he'll come,
with longiness taring his heart.
Lately, so sad he become,
he can't stand your being apart.
Well, it's not only him,
i miss him more than any thing.
And his eyes mostly i miss them,
his smile and his words and every thing.
And i'll go where he will,
scared but i'll be there on Sunday.
Running like chased by hell,
i can't stand any more being away.
But what if he is lying,
and he is coming just to let me go.
And those tears he wasn't crying,
what if he doesn't love me or misses me so.
I'm scared but i know,
that one day we must be meeting.
But my fear of Sunday grow,
and faster, my heart is beating.
My heart won't take the break,
and it certainly won't go for a wound.
I'm telling you from now for my sake,
don't do what i'm doubting you would.
I never led any one on in my life,
why would you think i would do it to you?
If that happens on Sunday i won't surfive,
and in a thousand Sundays i won't get over you.
I pray that Sunday will carry love,
and bring some one i adore back to me.
Believe me if that happened i'll fly above,
and Sunday will be the dearest day to me.