In the spring he said he'd come.
Summer is here; spring is gone.
He said "How about August."
Pass did October and November.
Pass did those months
Now it's December.
The hope went out, the sad set in,
No more laughter, and no more grins.
5, 6, 7, and soon 8 months went by
I just got mad, I could no longer cry.
I asked myself "Will peace return,
Or will I have to endure pain and suffering
His lose did bring?"
I search this earth for another soul.
That will comfort me through all.
That will hold me tight,
And help me win my fight.
Against my hurt, against my pain.
No longer do I want to play,
The waiting game.