In this rhyme
There's no sublime...

I can't seem to write
My hands have gone dead...

I miss you even as we speak
And it's just this thought...

I wish you were here
For this music's so sweet...

I'm so sad today
And I'm not sure why...

Tear it from my chest he said
To be rid of all that is dead...

They say, "Home is where the heart is."
I'll never be home again...

There's something wrong
Or is it right...

A million thoughts cloud my mind
While this thin blanket attempts its heat...

Past the meadows
Where a quiet willow dances...

What's one question?
When so many follow...

With a mountain of distrust
You turn your back on me...