Everyone in the world dies; I alone live, in health and joy.
Everything is where it lies, I am a kid, and all worlds are
my toy.
I alone clean my room, with a cloth and a broom.
I alone cook my food, on a stove of brick and wood.
I alone have all the money and gold, but it is no more than
sand to hold.
What is a home made of, without you parents, my mood is off.
I alone by the lake have a walk, all beauty to stare on
which my eyes lock.
I alone savor a chocolate cake, all nuts to taste perfect at
bake.
I alone play my Taiko and synth, all sounds right and my
feet set to sync.
What is a party made of, without you my friends, my mood is
off.
I alone have a couple of rings, and a tree with two empty
swings.
I alone have a phone to text, and a roadster with an empty
seat next.
I alone have long lovely stories to read, with a teddy to
hug and a lap you need.
What is a day made of, without you my wife my day is off.
I alone on a cold dawn, comes the warm sun to my roses'
lawn.
I alone witness the tiring dusk, sitting playing in the
dried husk.
I alone on a rainy night, drench in silence no one to hug
tight.
What is a moment made of, I am alone my mood is off.
A life is made of people, and things are the tools to craft
people into the best.
I alone am too feeble, if I love things and use people, for
without joy is no fest.