Poets seem sad to me
Because we feel more
And we hold on tight
And when we hurt, we write

Our tears fall on paper
In the form of words
Thoughts in scribbled ink
As our hearts begin to sink

Other people's pain fades
And drifts away with time
But a poet's hurt will stay
There on the tear stained page

A knocking...
Knocking on the door
Pick yourself up off the floor
I'm here for you
Open the door,  let me in
I'm your friend.

Been by your side through thick and thin
And as you've been there for me,  
Let me assure you
I'll never leave.

And you best believe
After all we've been through
The times we've cried,  laughed and held each other tight
And like this night when things grow dimmer for you
I'll be the light to help you though.

And I know you'd do the same for me
Although I pray and wish hopefully that my light stays bright
There will come a very dark night
I'll need you to hold my hand.

Although it may not be planned
One of these night I may not be able to stand
When I hear the knocking on the door,  
I'll let you in
And when you pick me up off the floor,  
I'll know I've found my best friend.