Attempts at Poetry (2)

 

See what you're missing, my love. 

The view from Earth is always heavenly. 

Hills, clouds, trees, flowers and bees. 

But what you're really missing is me. 

You have traversed the red soil, 

The dry, arid deserts of Mars, 

Where poison laden winds, 

Choke your lungs and burn your eyes. 

Your skin peels a little more each day, 

Your hair breaks and turns grey. 

No kind words to remind you, 

You're loved and protected and safe. 

But you wanted to go, far away from home. 

You wanted to live like this, didn't you? 

This is the world you chose, to escape. 

From down below here at home, 

I see you so far away, so alone. 

You try each day to stay alive, to remain free, 

A wandering spaceman in search of truths, 

But what you're really searching for is me. 

You can't sleep in your new home, 

You can't find a room warm enough. 

The hands that reached for you, 

Have now long disappeared in years. 

You have conquered all of infinity, 

And yet it isn't fully complete. 

A missing piece in all you've achieved. 

The only one missing in space is me.