Waiting for What Was Lost

Running for arms that never quite reached. Begging for love that

never quite relieved. A crumb for your pains, my dear. A speck when

it rains, I fear. It's a little bit funny, it's a little

bit sad that I still avoid stepping on cracks and it's a

bit deranged and altogether mad that I try to conjure emotions you can never

have. You can never have. What year is it?

How do I go back? How do I fix something shattered in

half? Tell me what to do to make it all right.