Did you know I wrote a poem yesterday?
I wrote of how a raven flew away.
I think t'was in the morning that it flew.
I don't know why it made me think of you,
But all I can think of is yesterday.

I can't finish it; not to my dismay.
I don't seem to finish many these days.
Every day I seem to think of you...
Did you know?

Even this... I hate it... It's cliche.
Every thought and feeling gone astray...
I keep running from the one thought that's too...
It's nothing that, it seems, I can subdue.
Oh, all the things that I wanted to say.
Did you know?