there is an outline of a man
always by my side
when I lay my head at night;
I feel the other side of the pillow sink,
As if it absorbs the words
That he thinks
Theres an hollow beside me;
an outline which needs filling in
He has the artery
And I have the vein
and in 7 million people, I’m
yet to find blood the same

But to just deny the existence
of Love
or expect it to never come
will break up your fibres of
delicate innocence;
and replace it with bleakness,
coldness and numb

Love is in all forms -
God, spirit and wine
- but I wish,
I could fill this hollow
man in.