There is more meaning I find in the Me of You
Than there are words in all of the pages transcribed by man

And no promise, dream or lie will ever suffice
In communicating what I cannot

The importance of your existing to me
Be it only for this short period of time

Just once in a bitter little lifetime

A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out