Your key is hanging on the hook,
redundant and unused.
And on the vacant seat you sat,
the cushion is confused.
The records on the turntable,
yet silence fills the air.
Your cup and saucer on the shelf,
brimming over with despair.
As I wonder through each room,
your waiting there for me.
Your all around this home of ours,
your in the air I breathe.
That day you turned away from me,
you left a part of you behind.
For you still walk throughout my days,
as a shadow of my mind.