oh how I now must face my fears
drying my eyes away where cold-shed tears
evaporate away to powder – salt
the only trace that’s left of fault
yet it is not true that I don’t regret
but quite what I should do – I forget
and my tears do not belie I’m sad
instead that once my heart was glad
I lived a life that was full of vigour
why I should be sad I just don’t figure
but now comes the part in this fine race
where my heart must live without its trace
nine-lives the cat but perhaps its true
that I had more, but more ran through
perhaps my last one ends just here
perhaps already by my fear
without regret could I live instead
in a world of poetry going round my head
perhaps I could return again
one more time to lift the rhyming pen
