I am the empty bench,

    The one who stands alone,

    The one with nobody by my side.

    I am without meaning,

    Stared at through the fog,

    A single thought for the weak and tired,

    A memory for the strong.

    I live without emotion,

    Without the need to feel another,

    But when raindrops fall,

    Or the day is nothing at all,

    I am nothing too.

    A spot of wood upon the ground,

    A view point even when nothing is around,

    And when night casts its shadows upon my broken heart,

    I am healed, unforgotten,

    For late night strolls,

    When everying seems to be perfect,

    I am a savior,

    I am the beautiful,

    I am the visible,

    I am empty, no more.