The Theory of Goodbye

Hmm. The numbers on the clock are standing still.

A 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