So much deep and lingering sadness
Touches my life. And I wonder why I am alive.
Does this breathing in my chest mean anything?
Then, I think of beauty. I think of womankind.
If I were dead: all the unfinished poems,
The unspoken speeches, the unfulfilled hopes
I could have reached inside myself for them.
Perhaps I am only a romantic poet, but you
Are truly beautiful, and if I can make my life
Of sadness a diamond: It will be for you.