Sunday Evenings

The sun plays pink games, ‘cross the evening sky,
Buses run one per hour, the sun’s faded power
Bids farewell to longest shadows, but why
Must the sun set, leaving taste so sour
In the mouths of those who must say goodbye?
As often as the moon is full, we meet.
Our time is precious, but we wish the sky
Wouldn’t fade to that darkest black night sheet,
The days melt away, you go on your way,
I only wish we could stay together.
Luckily I know one day you will stay,
And then we can be as one forever.
But until that day to see myself through
I’ll stick to our mantra, ‘I really miss you’.

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