on sundays, i feel like dying
on mondays, i don't
tuesdays, i feel like crying
wednesdays, my tears just won't

everyone thinks i'm fine
but it's okay, it's not a crime
to think that i am okay
because i seem "happy" everyday

on thursdays, i want to leave
fridays, i stay
saturdays, in vain, i believe
that sunday is far away

there is nothing
quite like death
to catch you off-guard
dead in your tracks
frozen
unsure of what to say --
or think
wonder if you should even breathe --
or cry

he looked at me with regret and asked,
"why are you crying, my dear?"
i sniffed, and told him politely
that he was the best thing
that ever happened to me

he then said, "please don't go"
and i told him sincerely
that i couldn't stay forever
but my love for him is eternal
just like his unspoken words

i then smiled,
"see you soon"
and that was when i had the courage
to catch the next bus,
only to find myself looking back out the window
at his epitaph