The room is left, just as it was before.
Before the night his wife past away.
Her clothes still hang neatly in the closet.
Her shoes still placed on the floor.
Her makeup still sits on the bathroom counter.
Her robe still hangs on the bathroom door.
He can't accept that she is really gone.
He stills see her smiling face,
as he walks down the empty hall.
He still smells her sweet perfume,
just like she's still there,
Late at night he stares at her abandoned pillow,
can't he help but start to cry.
The next morning he can't get out of bed,
the one he was living for isn't there any more.
He see's the her clothes, her robe,
just as she left it once before.