Poem # 9. Poem by Eman Awad

This is the poem number nine,
just about how much i miss you.
Oh, i wish that you become mine,
and that i grow older with you.
And even if i wrote million poems,
they won't be fair for the fire in me.
They won't rebuild those homes,
i made for us in a beautiful reverie.
I still miss you more every day,
and i really don't have a clue.
I know that i lost my way,
an astray who doesn't know what to do.
It's strange when you relate your existance,
to some one else's and also your dreams.
And you can't keep still your distance,
and his departure caused you scares and seams.
I find me talking to the moon,
asking him about how you do.
I'm going insane very soon,
asking every thing about you.
And i ask every one,
who used to know you some day.
You are the only one,
i repeat your name whenever i pray.
And the words of longiness never end,
for some one who loves you, they won't.
My poems with roses and prayers i send,
to you and if you forgot me, i won't..