Without My Penguin Poem by Tyrone Wingfield

I had finally fallen deep in love
Only to have it ripped away
Somebody must hate me up above
Someone who takes pleasure in my dismay

For the first time in my life
Real love stood before me
I had someone who I wanted as my wife
And without her, I am less than empty

She is the only thing
That ever crosses my mind
Unmeasurable amounts of joy, to me she would bring
And I would respond in kind

She is perfect in every single way
And our love was young and pure
I lived to hear her voice each day
She is the One, and of this I am sure

I can barely fathom the misery I find myself in
And there is no end as far as I can tell
Without her, my love, my Penguin
Everyday is a living Hell