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Missing You
These lonely walls,
if they could only talk,
what stories would be told.
Would they be nights of passion
or days of old.
You were my lover and my best friend.
We shared happiness and joy,
sorrow and despair.
It didn't really matter.
You were always there.
One night, you didn't come home,
I guessed you were getting
bored with life,
so went out all alone.
It was very late, a little after two--
I had trusted and busted you
all in one night.
For when I found where you had gone,
it was for the best.
It wasn't another lady you were with
but a man in a dress!
We argued; we quarreled;
we had a heck of a fight!
A man in a dress, I must confess--
took me by surprise.
When you looked up and saw me,
you couldn't believe "your" eyes!
When I got home,
your clothes I didn't pack--
just left them in a pile, by the door.
I didn't love you anymore.
I'm still missing you and the love we had.
I'd grown accustomed
to seeing your head on the pillow.
Now, I've accepted the fact
that you married a girl (guy)
named "Willow."
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