I am alone; all by my only.

No one to coddle me.

No one to dry my tears.

No one to speak my stresses.

The swirl of loneliness sounds like

the cries of a young girl seeping through the walls and peeling the paint right off.

The rock bottom of September never will warm our air like the sound of summer memories,

nor will it warm my frozen heart filled with lies and deception.

The days once filled with laughter now reak with the stench of silence;

the voices echo in my mind—reminding me of what we had before the lies and deception

ripped us apart like a thin piece of looseleaf paper.

When you toss sadness to the wind, it returns as the sound of a new beginning raging like an ocean

waves returning to shore.

When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness, you might find dreams of old and new,

thriving as if they were there all along.

At the top of tomorrow awaits a shining sunrise carrying the fresh start I need so desperately.

I am alone; all by my only.

No one to make me cry.

No one to deceive me.

No one to ruin me.