And let me have all the freedom I need
Let me write my scarred frustrations
on this paper and make the pen bleed
Time wounds all heels and sowing this literary crop unreaps the mighty seed ...
Suppose, my dear, that you were I
And by your side your sweetheart sate;
Suppose you noticed by and by
The distance 'twixt you were too great;
Now tell me, dear, what would you do?
I know-and so do you.