With all the beauty I see and I hear,
Now I know not peace, but senseless fear.

In earlier days, content to wander,
Time is the thing now that I squander.

Remembering days of solitude’s bliss,
Beginning to think there’s something I’ve missed.

My arm, my hand, my pillow, my soul,
The emptiness displaces heart with hole.

When brown is grey and memories gold,
My hands I hope to pray they fold.

Not in desperate hope, born of despair,
I hope to thank God of one who was there.

Memories spoken are best if they’re shared,
The bond of time has no compare.

The music keeps playing and I realize
The simplest thing is hardest to find,
Someone to love, to stay by my side.

Thank you guys for make this so right!