There will no longer be a key under the mat,

but a sign on the door that says “Vacancy”.

Don’t sit by the steps waiting,

hoping I’d show up,

because I won’t.


When you left,

I spent day after day,

waiting by the front porch,

hoping, praying,

you’d be back.


Watching the sun rise and set,

the moon go through all its phases,

wishing on shooting stars.

But my wishes kept shooting me down.


Don’t look for me in our favorite coffee shop or


Don’t look for me under starry night skies,

or golden beaches.

Don’t look for me in the songs you listen to,

or in the movies you watch.


Although I act like I don’t want you to,

I do hope you would.

Hope you’d look in the postbox,

where I’ve left the key,

with a note, saying;

Please come back home.


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