Absence

While looking through incoming mail, I thought I'd take a peek
to see if my girl left one there, you see, it's been a week
since I have felt the joy it brings when she has sent me word
of all her latest goings on, no matter how absurd.

But sadly there was nothing there for me to look upon
not even when I sat up close and put my glasses on.
I scanned them all, the sears ads, and even porno spam
(A nice Nigerian princess says she's not the latest scam)

But looking hard, or looking close, it seems it doesn't matter
there's nothing I can do from here to get my girl to chatter
and wishing has no large effect, in fact there's none at all
in bringing me unwritten mail, from my sweet, living doll.

And so I go back to my work, engulf myself with tasks
and say my eyes have allergies, my if anybody asks
about the redness showing there, where whiteness ought to be.
They have no need to know about the emptiness in me.

(sniff)

And all for lack of something writ, a little correspondence...
It's odd that letters means so much, when lacking a preponderance
especially when the letter's from, I mean, it ought to be,
the girl who owns my heart, and (sniff) who's everything to me.