I'm fine.  
I'm fine.
I'm fine, you say
You assume that I'm blind.
Then you say "go away."
But what would I do?
Sit there and stare?
Watching you whither
Like a far too young
Old man in a chair?
I don't think I could.
I don't think I should.
But if that's what you want dear,
I guess I could try.
But the more that I think
And the more that I cry,
I soon come to realize
I can't  watch you die.