"Write me something," he says.
So I did, but I wrote him a poem.
Day and night I all but fell asleep
Trying to find reasons to leave him alone.

"Sing me something," he pleads.
Well I did, but I sang him a poem.
Today I waited for him outside my door
And I've been doing it for three weeks but he never comes.

"Promise me something," he insists.
And I did, but I promised him a poem.
Tonight I wondered what went wrong between us
I was about to ask,
but her name was stuck in the middle of his teeth.

"Tell me something," he begs.
And it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him,
but I didn't.
because then I would have to tell him every poem
and it was the story of every smile
every laughter
every glance
every secret
every tear
that I had for only him.

But I could tell him a million words
sing him a thousand songs
and promise him a hundred vows.
And at the end of the day,
I could write him something.

But all we will be is just a poem.