When in doubt, my heart will bleed,
in times without, I will succeed.
All my sorrow, perhaps has proclaimed,
the stars will listen, as I cry in vain.
The night is listening, to my soiled tears-
and as I cry, I release my (perpetual) fears.
To dream, I will, and dream of rain,
my fears are burdened by my constant pain.
The piano plays constantly in the living room,
I cannot live without, for fear of doom.
To dream, I do, and dream of I,
my soiled tears are withered cries.
The crow caws constantly, outside my window,
and I see the rain in sheets in the street below.
How vain, it is, to think that I,
am hurt all not, and cannot cry.