Sometimes you don’t remember she’s gone

-You should, it’s quiet- in the rooms, outside

And it’s quiet because she’s died

So we’re reduced from two to one

And what this does is hurt my heart

And make the bloody teardrops start

So when I think, I must tell Allie

-About this or that, something I’ve heard

I might as well tell the cats or a bird

But if she were here I wouldn’t dally

I’d fly to her side, say, “Guess what love-“

But this is weakness I’ve too much of

It’s just indulgence, I must be strong

And live with her death for whom I long