When You're Not Here Tomorrow

BUT YOU'LL STILL IGNORE ME

When you're not here tomorrow,

I won't look for you in the blue sky,

but in the clouds—white or stormy—

as they pass me by.

I'll wonder if you're up there,

looking down—there's so much to see—

and I'll wave—half smiling, half crying—

but you'll still ignore me.

When you're not here tomorrow,

I'll hunt your ghost-self down.

I'll rant and yell until my throat is sore,

scaring the whole of the town.

Your back will hide my red-blotched cheeks.

Your face, I cannot see.

"Coward!" I will hoarsely scream,

but you'll still ignore me.