Worn out

 My dearest Tate, I’m worn and tired,

Longing for your love, so deeply admired.

Each passing day, your absence weighs,

In shadows cast, my heart obeys.

Amidst the toil of work’s demanding grind,

My thoughts drift to you, a tranquil find.

Your presence, a beacon in the storm,

A refuge, where my heart is kept warm.

The days drag on, the nights stretch long,

As I yearn for your touch, to keep me strong.

Your gentle words, a balm to my soul,

In your embrace, I find my console.

But distance persists, a cruel divide,

And loneliness I cannot hide.

Yet, I’ll persevere, hold on to hope,

In your love’s haven, I’ll learn to cope.

For you are the light that guides my way,

A constant presence through the disarray.

With you, I find the strength to stand,

To navigate life’s rough, shifting sand.

Though work weighs heavy, I’ll push through,

Your memory, a cherished respite, it’s true.

Together, we’ll weather every storm,

And in our love’s embrace, be reborn.

Tate, my love, I miss you so,

In this world’s chaos, you make me whole.

I’ll keep holding on, no matter the weather,

For we’ll find peace again, together.