Sitting on a park bench by myself,
I see the empty space on the end,
I turn my head slowly, eyes lowering,
Wishing for someone I could confide in.
Deserted and lonely and tired,
I sit with hands clasped slightly,
There’s no one here to help,
To hold my hand tightly.
A sea of overwhelming thoughts,
A flood of loneliness and fears,
No way to fight it, no way to stop it,
Nothing to do but let out the tears.
I stare down at my clasped hands,
A pair, complete, two whole things,
Two eyes, two ears, two feet,
One heart; and what joy that brings.
One heart, alone, as always,
Will there ever be an end,
To the pain, the suffering,
The heart ache that it sends?
The everlasting journey,
To find my other heart,
To fill the seat beside me,
Without falling apart?
My hands tightly clasped,
Eyes lowered to the ground,
Another day passes,
Without my heart being found.