The Theory of Goodbye

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 the logic in the pain. You walked away without a single sound

and 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 last goodbye.