Sometimes I wonder how you handle all of this.
I mean not seeing me, or do you pretend I don’t exist?
No one will tell me where you are or what you’re up to.
Sometimes I wish there was something I could do.
I have a family of my own now, but it doesn’t take the hurt away.
I hope you’ll come home, come back to me someday.
I take your pictures and talk, I hope somehow you hear me.
I ask about your dreams and what you want to be.
I spent many nights thinking of you and sometimes I cry.
I promise I will see you again someday no matter how hard I have to try.