Get a needle and some yarn,
make a small slip knot;
and make sure the needle
goes through the hole

Start with 16 stitches,
No, maybe with 36?
The longer, the better
the greater, the sweater.

Through the hole, loop around.
Through the hole, pull and repeat.
"What is this for?" He shouts and squints.
"It's for her," You answer and knit.

Switch your working needle,
Don't give him side glances
Ignore the woman beside him,
And mind the angel that's sleeping.

Time passes by,
as it becomes neverending.
Instead of casting off,
you add more yarn.

"It'll be okay," You knit.
"The longer the better," You repeat.
"Ignore it," You knit
"As long as I have her." You repeat.

Your yarn's running out
Your fingers are getting sore.
Your eyes are turning red,
Your head's starting to hurt.

Through the hole, pull and repeat;
How many rows have you done?
Every row feels like a year
How many more till its done?

"I can't stop now," You scold yourself.
"It's not done yet," You lie to yourself.
Beside you, a pile exists.
A pile of sweaters waiting to be worn.

The shouts, the agony,
The tension is rising,
You hold your knitted sweater close,
As you realise the angel
Isn't crying anymore.

Through the hole, pull and repeat;
"What is this for?" You finally ask.
"Who is this for?" You lips quiver.
"Why am I still doing this?" Your fingers shiver.

The angel is spreading her wings.
Light from the balcony shines through,
You try to catch her,
But she's already so far.

The sweater you made
He threw it away
as well as your heart
Leaving you alone.

"It's over," You tied a slip knot.
"There's nothing else." You repeat.
"You can finally cast off." You stand up.
Through the hole and pull it tight.