Why Does the Day Yawn So Long?

Why does the day yawn so endlessly,

Stretching its arms so weariedly?

The sun seems tired in the sky,

Dragging its golden feet, drifting by.

Even the evening, once brushed with rose,

Now carries a scent that’s stale and close—

As if yesterday’s sigh still lingers,

Unwiped from time’s forgotten fingers.

The breeze walks slowly through the trees,

Not whistling tunes, not whispering ease.

The clouds float by with empty grace,

No silver linings, no hopeful face.

The world feels dull, its colors pale,

As though life itself has grown frail.

Why?

Because you’re not here.

---

You, who once brought laughter to light,

Have left this day without its right.

You, who turned dull air into song,

Now make silence feel too long.

The birds don’t sing the way they used to,

Their wings feel heavy, the skies seem blue—

Not blue with joy, but blue with ache,

As if the whole world’s heart might break.

Flowers still bloom, but without delight,

They yawn like the day, longing for night.

The stars may come, but shine less true,

They seem to blink, just searching for you.

The clocks tick on, but not with grace,

Each second sighs in your empty place.

The hours, once bright, now feel obscene,

Like pages in a book we’ve already seen.

---

The tea has cooled in untouched cups,

The wind forgets to lift things up.

Chairs are empty, the room’s too still—

And even time bends to your will.

No laughter echoes down the halls,

Just memory brushing dusty walls.

No shadow dances on the floor—

Only silence pacing, wanting more.

The mirror frowns, the window stares,

Even sunlight forgets to care.

There is no music in the breeze,

Only longing in the rustling trees.

---

Because you are not here—

And the world has forgotten how to cheer.

Your absence is a soundless song,

That hums in everything all day long.

In coffee spoons and open books,

In corners where your laughter looks.

In the creak of doors, the rust of keys,

In the stillness of the autumn trees.

In the softness of the cushion seat,

Where once we talked, where hearts would meet.

In everything, a quiet remains,

Like summer holding back its rains.

Because you’re not here—

And nothing feels near.

---

Without you, love, the world is bland,

Like waves receding from the sand.

No tide returns to kiss the shore,

No breeze brings rhythm anymore.

The moon forgets to bathe the sky,

Even the stars look shy, too shy.

Nights don't whisper, mornings don’t sing—

They miss the joy your presence brings.

You are the color in the air,

The warmth in every loving stare.

The rhythm in each heartbeat’s flow,

The light that made the mornings glow.

---

And now…

The day yawns wide, the dusk decays,

As time just limps through empty days.

And all because…

You are not here.

So come, if you can hear my plea—

Return, and set the daylight free.

Let evening once again be sweet,

And time resume its dancing beat.

Let the world, now cloaked in grey,

Be kissed alive by you someday.

Until then, I sit and stare—

At a world that yawns in thin despair.

Just one you, and all would change—

The sun, the moon, this day so strange.

But now…

Just absence fills this vast frontier—

Because you're not with me…

You're not here.