His side of the bed is empty and cold
Our married life only fourteen days old
The man that I worshipped and honoured is gone
The warm nght is over, cold day stretches on.
Bereft, I am lost, don't know what to do
Feel thrown away like a discarded shoe
Entirely alone and hurt by the quirk
of fortune that means that my husband must work.
I know where he's gone and why he must go
but without him I'm empty and waiting, and so
I curse every sunrise and all that it brings
and pray for the evening when my heart sings.