What's wrong, my dear friend?
You're not like you used to be.
Your eyes used to light up,
And you seemed to have this
Glow about you.

Even in the worst of times,
Your cup was half full.
"Look on the bright side,
You'd say.
"It could always be worse."

What happened to your half full cup?
Why did it suddenly become half empty?
What about "the bright side"
You spoke so fondly of?

What happened to all of that?

You used to have a spring in your step.
A lust for life,
A need for adventure.

But now, your head hangs
And your feet drag.
Your need for adventure has diminished.
Like a balloon popping,
The air quickly exiting the plastic cage.
You're the air. Life's the balloon.

What's wrong, my dear friend?

You used to give the best advice.
You were born to help others.

Your laugh was as clear as a bell.
It was unique, special.
We heard it often,
For you found everything hysterical.

What happened to all of that?

Now, you still give advice,
But reluctantly.
You don't find joy in it anymore.
You don't find joy in anything anymore.

Your laugh is slow, forced.
I guess you don't find things
As funny as you used to.

You had a beautiful singing voice.
I know you still, underneath all the sadness.
The birds would echo your simple tune,
And your clear soprano notes would shatter glass.

What's wrong, my dear friend?

I see you, observe you.
You still walk,
And talk,
And laugh,
And sing—

But it's not like it used to be.
Something's missing.

What's wrong, my dear friend?