Beneath the blades of grass
The dew again forming
Catalyst, cool new air carries
Moisture, evaporated tears
Of yesterday, of yesteryear
To cling upon the surface as
Countless drops appear,
each pure, unpolluted, reflecting
Growing, to be shed again
To the earth as do these thoughts
But to the void beating in me
Pushing blood to keep me going
The way of things does not matter
Whilst emotions or unattended lack
There in does to one so mournful.

I. Miss.  You.