You never really miss them
Until they have gone away
When they are too far to hear
The words you long to say
They seem to drive you crazy
And home is much too close
But when you leave for a while
The pests you miss the most
Their fighting and bad habits
The way they joke and jeer
Are but lonesome, aching memories
As you wish that they were here
So later when I grow angry
And banish them from sight
Let remember that I love them
And need them in my life
I never want to forget them
Or take them for granted again
For every time I hurt them
I have lost my closest friends
- Mary O. Fumento, 1985