When and how are you feeling now,
With your name endowed with the darkening clouds?
September came with no one to blame,
It's November now, things are looking up somehow.

Soon the new year, you'll swallow your fear,
That solitary tear running down your cheek.
It's been eight weeks since you were left alone,
With no one at home and you still can't pick up the phone.

Back at home you're in bed,
With a thousand thoughts running through your head,
It was the last thing that she ever said.
"I don't want to go to work today" was the last thing that she said,
"I'd rather not go to work today, I'd rather be dead."

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