Like a song that never sings,
The music I once heard from your lips,
Are to never return,
Is it?

Like the colors you used to make up,
No one else could see them,
But oh,
You see them all too clearly now.

And the noises, the smells, the feelings,
They all rush back to you don't they?
But oh,
You aren't to say one word of these things.

Besides you promised yourself,
One poem,
Wouldn't bring you back to him,
Begging on you knees!

Your pride,
Oh how your pride stings me,
But soon,
You die like the bees at the unkown spots,


Hiding from me,
And the rest of the world,
And how you put on your show,
Pretending your fine.