Missing You Poem by John Yaws

It never could have lasted,
I knew it from the start…
Those raging flames of passion,
You stirred within my heart.
The heavens all refused to look,
Right from the start they knew,
That it could only end one way,
With me here, missing you.

I miss you with the daybreak,
That's when I realize…
That I must dwell in solitude,
With heart-felt groans and sighs.
For even skies so cloudless-
Take on a somber hue,
If one must walk life's path alone,
I'm still here missing you.

At noon I set the table,
One plate, one fork, one spoon…
One lonely chair, one lonely man,
One lonely dining room.
I eat another tasteless meal,
Enough to see me through,
But, oh, the sorrows that I feel,
While I sit, missing you.

Then at the dinner table-
Damask, soft candle light…
A vintage wine, meal, well prepared,
To herald coming night.
The wine alone will be my meal,
It helps to see me through,
Another night, here all alone,
I spend, dear, missing you.