The Theory of Goodbye

Hmm. The numbers on the clock are standing still. The coffee cup

sits cold upon the sill. I trace the patterns of the falling rain,

and try to find a logic in the pain. You walked away without a single

sound. You left my shadow lying on the ground. I thought that

I could calculate the end, but broken hearts are difficult to mend.

The room is quiet but the echo stays. A memory of all our better

days. I look for answers in the empty air but all I

find is that you isn't there. Why? This is the theory of a