Waiting to see you’re statue appear at the door,
7 goes the clock and you’re not there anymore.
Waiting for you’re suprise but the tears still flow from my eyes.
Hearing the creak of pain as I sit on my bed, remembering secrets that were always best kept.
In you’re situations they were always not, you’re miss’s on the side. I never forgot.
The cry of my mother grieaving her lost love, to the man she still confides in up above.
Two hands put together like love and a prayer,
always trying to remember that the hand is no longer there.
The twisted seats and you’re pictures in the frame,
some of these may quite never be the same.
As I sit here and stare, at the emails of you’re new and improved love.
I also start to confide in the man up above.
Though you are not tall, and I am certainly not looking up at you.
DADDY I need to tell you that our relationship is through!
You can sit and stare through me whilst you’re wearing you’re mask,
when I only see through you like a broken piece of glass.
As you no longer love Mum i clearly see,
so please leave the house and leave us be.
As the creak is gone and you’re hand is not there,
even though I still sit on this broken chair.
The memorys are fading and the past floating away.
DADDY please leave, don’t have a nice day!
As i confide with the person up above,
I will never forget you’re desperate love.
The prayer I seek no longer needs you.
As it is right… you and Mum are through.
By Crystal Waters.