Empty bed.

Empty bed.
There's a crease in the pillow of where you used to lay,
And my sheets are still a mess because you're not here today.
The smell, the scent of you still lingers in my room,
Oh how I miss the smell of your beautiful perfume.
For the hours we once spent lying awake in my bed,
Hand in hand, not a word said.
These are the weeks and months I'll never ever forget.
But now with you gone, and you're moving on, I'll lay alone in my bed, with no words said but our favourite song on ...
(C) Pia Cincotta, 6th of October 2009.