Turning pages on the calendar
seasons that used to please now...

I slumber with Morpheus and He
has His way with Me, or so it seems...

No longer there to hold a hand or
kiss a scuffed up knee, no more...

Never love something that can walk away
I heard an old man once say...

If I could change I would change me
and a Robot I would be, Micro chips...

Do you miss me, long to kiss me,
feel my smooth hands on your...

The hands on the clock stand still
to see them move on one more second...

Silence fills my heart
where once a symphony...

I battle love and all its woes
as the son of Zeus and Alcmene...

Loves not love that's
born out of sorrow...

Is a blind man deaf to loves call
does the mute see love at all...

Her confused thoughts reeling
not sure of her feelings...