As much as I do even when I am snoring.
I miss you; when I get ready for work,
Not finding my stuff feels like a dork.
I miss you; when I unpack my lunch,
Not making me feel even to munch.
I miss you; want your voice on the phone,
But all I get now is a stupid dial-tone.
I miss you; when I get back home,
Only waiting is my bed’s foam.
I miss you; your side is empty,
Sleeping now feels like humpty-dumpty.
I miss you; my wife, my friend,
Comon, bring this distance to an end.