There's one less set of footprints
upon my bedroom floor,
there's half as many clothes
behind the closet door.

There's a lonely set of arms
that used to embrace its pair,
there's one less person here
but one more vacant chair.

There's a heart that was once overflowing
and bursting from the soul,
but it seems that just a half
can claim the very whole.

Somethings can be mended,
but never replaced by another.
In empty beds we learn
how to live without each other.