It Friday, the end of work week

Stop at the bar for few drinks with friends

The old Friday night routine

After an hour he decide to leave

Pasting the store on my way home

He stops to buy some flowers

No special occasion, just an occasion

Twelve bright yellow roses

Got home

Strange the lights are off

Her car is in the driveway

Unlock the front door

He goes in greeted by this eerie silent

And call out Lorene; I’m home

No reply

He walks to the kitchen

Leaving the roses on the counter

Checking the mail on the table

Bills what else is new

Open the refrigerator

He grab himself a beer

Headed up stair to see if she was a sleep

Hit the lights in hallway

Walk to the bedroom

The door is closed

Open

Flip the light

The draws are pull out

Closet open

Empty

A letter on my pillow on the immaculate made bed 

It starts off

Dear john, I love you

But I don’t think this is going to work

His heart sinks in my chest

Hitting to bottom of his shoes

This terrible feeling overwhelms him

Lowering his head

Tears fill his eyes

The letter goes on to say

He was a good man

And he did nothing wrong

But she had to leave

Lighting flash outside the window

And it was like angel in heaven too felt

His terrible pain

It began to rain

He crawls into bed

With his shirt, tie and shoe on

Pull the covers over him

Hugging the pillow with her scent in his arms

He cried even harder as he try’s to fall a sleep

Suddenly he awoken to a sound

Though for second it may been her

So he calls out her name Lorene

But only the cat came running into the room

Jump onto the bed

Rubbing its head on his hand

He rolls over and when back to sleep

Morning came sneaking its rays through the blinds

Even thou the morning was bright and full of life

He struggle to get out of bed

Is head felt like scramble eggs?

With a bad taste in his mouth from

The drinking he done the night before

His thoughts collide like the rush hour trains

His heart feel like it was pull from his chest

The pain unbearable it when all the way down to his stomach

And then shot straight to his head

Washed his face and brush his teeth

Before making his way down stairs to the kitchen

Funny how ever thing reminded him of her

Even the small’s things

Tormented

He paces the house

From kitchen to living room

Up the stairs to the bathroom down the hall

To the bedroom afraid to enter

He turns around heading back down stairs

Curls up on couch

Grabs the remote

He turn on the radio

It was on her favorite station

The announcer says a few words before the next song plays

It was N-Sync Gone?

The music played, it was like a knife

Stabbing him in the chest and cutting his vain

He crumbles to the floor on his knees

Pounding his fist on the hard wood floor

The song rumbles out the speaker

His eyes swells as tears roll

Down his face

He hopes and prays the pain would go away

But like in all thing time heel all wounds

So he would try to pull himself together

Alway fighting the realization

That she was

Gone.