I can write another poem
However ink stained paper won't return you to me
I never understood why you couldn't love me until that night
I always knew that I was missing something you needed
Identifying what it was is what haunted me
From the very beginning I knew that I would never be enough
I was just bidding time
Your love was the most beautiful thing I ever felt I didn't want it effects to expire
Slowly dying becoming non-existent
However it seems such a thing was inevitable
I watched the gradual decay
Helpless I was but I knew my interference would only hasten the process
You grew distant and cold
To point I wondered did my existence even matter
For now I have the answer