They stop playing the drum
When I rather they not
For then - I tend to go numb

My feelings experience a clot
Blocking any emotions getting through
So they begin to rot -

In their place - apathy begins to brew
Boiling happiness - and fear - away
Hollowed out soul is to ensue

What can be done to delay the decay?
Why nothing at all - don't be dumb
Give in to the void and turn grey

That's what I did - it's pretty glum.
Oh God, what have I become -