The Pleasure Of One's Company Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Often does not come soon enough,
When someone or something is wished...
With a missing of it had,
That drives one madder than a kid who nags.

The pleasure of one's company,
Wanted and felt needed bad.
Is like a 'hit' of a quick fix that soothes.
And all is well until the groove of it cools.

Often does not come soon enough,
When someone or something is wished...
With a missing of it had,
That drives one madder than a kid who nags.

And inside that nagging impatient kid,
Never seems to grow...
When that yearning churns with nowhere to go,
Until what is desired appears.
To immediately ease the burning of anticipation.

'Where have you been?
It seems as if you were gone forever.'

~It was only twenty minutes ago,
I told you I was coming right back.~

'I really,
Really enjoy being with you.'