Tears do not fall from these eyes,
Not since days of old,
Not since boyhoods fire went out,
And passions run now cold.

Tender things, these hearts of ours,
Words drain them of their power,
For the kindness once that kept them filled,
Now seeps out through the scars.

Analyzing every word,
But not hearing what you say,
I've forgotten childhood's trusting world,
Suspicion blocks the way.

Consumed within a cage of me,
Knowing I am ill,
Time can't heal my broken heart,
But loneliness can kill.

 
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