Because it is you

Sweet is the sound of you
and you are all that I hear
as I go about my day
eating custards creams
and watching cars.

And my steps are heavy
each time I walk
the long way round
farther from you,
and wait once again
for you to follow.

Each minute only seems
like one minute
if each one of those
was made up of ten.
I am taunted
by passing time
passing slowly.

And still I wait.

Because it is you.
It is always you.