Dead men
don’t write poems
my love
and dead men
don’t sing songs
don’t make love
my love
or hold you
all night long
Dead don’t bring flowers
or chocolates in a box
Dead men don’t deliver diamonds
that mean so much more
than just
the rock
A dead man
cannot look you in the eye
and say that you are mine
And a dead man
won’t declare
that you are so
incredibly
fine
A dead man
will not cook your food
feed you with a spoon
or put you in a mood
that makes you shine
just like the moon
A dead man
cannot hold your hand
or even massage your feet
Or ask about your day
when you are so tired
you feel beat
A dead man
cannot wipe your tears
and say that I am here
Or whisper the sweet words
that will clear
your mind
of fear
A dead man
cannot do a thing
and so I cannot see
why you say
that you are leaving
Can’t you tell
you are killing me?