When I am not with youI am alone,For there is no one elseAnd there is nothingThat comforts me but you.When you are gone Suddenly I am sick,Blackness is round me,There is nothing left.I have tried many things,Music and cities,Stars in their constellationsAnd the sea,But there is nothingThat comforts me but you;And my poor pride bows downLike grass in a rain-stormDrenched with my longing.The night is unbearable,Oh let me go to youFor there is no one,There is nothingTo comfort me but you.
-Sara Teasdale
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