You ask me to write poems about you— What could I possibly write! Everything's already been written by someone's hand! How much power do words have, after all! How much can ever really be said!
You ask me to write poems about you— What could I possibly write! You're still here today! Can the heart truly see what stands before our very eyes?
You ask me to write poems about you— What could I possibly write! You're no longer here today! The color of your eyes, the way you laughed...none of this comes to mind anymore!
You ask me to write poems about you— What could I possibly write! You're dead today! How much more weeping can be wept in the writing of a poem!
Today, yesterday, and tomorrow, each day drowns in the enchanted night. And when night falls, my vision slowly grows dim... thinking of all the busyness that tomorrow will bring.