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Piercing pain.
Raining inside.
I travel 1/8^th of the world
Twice a month,
Apart from my work-
Just to be with you.

But even if we’re streets apart
It feels you’re still some miles away:
Busy, disconnected,
Always somewhere, detached,
Even when you’re here.

We said we will try
Where is “we”?
You asked me: “Be here with me.”
Rain or shine;Sickness and in health;
I am here. Always.
Where are you?

“Next time is coming soon baby”
That was nearly a year ago.
Time is so precious
For you and your work-
“Next time” never came by.
It’s not the waiting baby
Not even going there…
It’s your promise, your words
The trusting and hoping
Should I stop believing? 

Three knives in my heart:
Time -is not on our side;
Distance -we’re worlds apart;
I can deal with that…
But the worst part is
You and I -becoming strangers at heart.