Waiting by the phone again.
It seems to keep hurting more
each time I am looked over by him,
so low on his list of priorities.
And I did say I wanted to write again.
I should be more careful what I wish for.
I never really wanted it to end,
just wanted him to be there for me.
So here I sit all alone again.
And I keep on missing him more
with every stoke my pen,
and still, he’s not missing me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem