Your pajamas want you back,
They miss you, (not in words,
They are not capable of speech.)
As they fold under your pillow,
Poking out; an inanimate lament.
Your shampoo is starting to leak
Thickly teared bubbles…
And your soap!
Don’t get me started on your soap!
I don't think your soap will make it.
Your coffee is getting cold
And I don't think that cream was a good idea
I already see a milky film
And it may go the way of the soap,
Maybe even sooner.
When you get back, it might just be me
Waiting with arms open
Holding a cold pajama
For you to warm.
Mike Brady 2005/10