The Crucible Of Life
I'm wistful and sad,
you're not here,
yet you're everywhere.
Your pillow refuses to comfort me,
I punch it and yell up at you,
"Why did you leave?"
Away, I must get away from here,
I don't want to see,
all these memories.
The moon's in the sky,
strong winds are behind me,
a star shines brightly.
When morning comes,
I'll have coffee and toast,
then hold your poor pillow really close.
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