Half of me is missing – by Martin Phillips
 
Half of me is missing
I just don’t know what to say
My bed is Oh so empty
Where, we both should lay.
 
Whilst watching the children grow
We can no longer share our pride
Half of me is missing
I just want to go and hide.
 
The sewing room lies silent
There’s no smell of baking bread
Words left unspoken
And things I wish I’d said
 
My rock in life has shifted
I’m no longer on firm ground
Half of me is missing
And yet my Karen is all around