Like sand, the air, feels
I've lost the appetite for living
My watch stopped the day you died
I have an overdose of sorrow
That I can't overcome
Your image is still there
When I come to your room and look
Your presence is still there
When I pick up a toy you left
And play, with loss and grief
Your image is still there
When I come to the bath and search
Your presence is still there
When I pick up the razor