I don't think you know how much
this silence hurts, my heart I clutch.
This, may finally see me dead!
For I, am nearly fully bled.
Beating organ, broken down,
as I wail, pitiful sound.
You are here, but not around,
all in time, I will expound.
I have called to you for help,
with my little wolfy yelp.
Yet I'm too far back, on the shelf,
and I no longer want myself.
Don't think I can last much longer.
Your will must be so much stronger,
Than what little I have left,
Stashed within my feeble cleft.
A month or two, and not much more.
then I'll be free of the chore.
This life is a horrid bore
that I no longer have strength for.
