Music Box

I made an ornate music box for Patricia my wife It's been on my dresser for half of my life The room smells like cedar when she opens the top She dances as it serenades us until the music stops I love antiques and I'm becoming one fast There is less in our future than in our past Patricia and I have reached that age She says it may be time to turn the page Her conversation starts with "When I die..." And "When you're her alone don't go awry" I know she's trying to make me think But that discussion always makes me shrink But I have started to think about it Inevitable for one of us I must admit Where will I go? What will I do? If there is no us or no you? And what will I do with the box that plays Our daily theme song and the message it conveys I will be tempted to open it frequently and hear But the music will not be what I can bear I will not have the willpower to avoid the madness I will have to find a way to close the lid on my sadness ...I'm thinking maybe superglue