I Miss The Missing Of You Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

I Miss The Missing Of You

I miss the missing of you. Like-a-toothache.
The pain is deeply rooted in my heart.
I didn't go to the dentist; did you?
The pain, the pain, was all too sharp.

Destiny makes me pine with every sinew.
Then you came alongside me, taking my hand.
Ah, my agonies then slowly dissipated and withdrew.
Season after season into eternity, they extract and subtract.

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