Words not spoken, deeds not done,
All the memories not gone,
Resting deep inside one's mind,
Try to dig and one will find
A variety of emotions,
A collection of great thoughts.
Deep beneath those simple matters,
Lying under surface plots.
Every single song not ended,
And each line you haven't rhymed.
It's your soul by them tormented,
It's your being that's sublimed.
Outnumbered by one's fears,
Feeling sick and feeling blue.
One can wipe his moment's tears
And beleive - in me and you.