She went out, barely said goodbye.
Disappointment´s arrow flies.
When you´re near an angel
that you slowly grew to love.
When you´re near a lonely man´s
last resort even the time together´s
not enough.
Grey routine like cigarrete ash
and no children of my blood.
My solitude a sudden flash
when the house is quiet.
Grief speaks to me and says-
"You´ll be without a co-pilot".
"You´ll fly solo soon son".
"You´ll not have the dream, the daily grind
or rhyming pun".
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