I have lost you- my guide
and now I stumble
upon a hole in myself
a hole I desperately try to fill

The bear, he gives me candies
small and sour though
Each day, there are more
for me to force down
my swollen throat

The Mocking bird, it follows me,
nudging every now and then
sometimes she'll sing softly
usually she pretends

The little one, she gives me smiles
and things I cannot hold
but god, have they never been more precious

And yet will all these things
the hole still aches
with an echoed sadness
'I miss you'- it whispers
and still, you reply not.