A tale you spin on the table,
Tears and fears in your fable,
Open that white book and write soon,
For I fear you will not last too soon,
I know your story has a complex entity,
and I know you seek her pity

These lines will matter like the lines on her forehead,
These words will linger where her heart is ahead,
An unruly stranger will knock the door,
Ignore, 'cause you have already walked on that floor

You are on your own,
A dissident personified on his own,
They have always talked about caring,
You know the absence of one for sharing

You are on your own,
You linger where the ears don't hear and mouths don't care,
You write to gain attention of eyes that don't see,
You are lost in between these lines,

I'll see you on the next piece of paper,
I'll see you in between the layers.