You can't hear me scream through these thick walls,
But then, you'd rather hear the muffled sound of crying
Rather than the foreboding that encloses your thoughts.
You are truly just a simple man, simple in that you have
Destroyed everyone else's decorousness so you could claim
Your own. I hear you wheezing through my walls, trying
To not be heard but I hear you anyways. Sick, dying. You
Never could keep yourself well maintenanced and now if
You are to pass on, can I keep the musty collect of leather
Bound journals you keep in the trunk underneath your bed?
I desire them more than sex and money, something of a legacy
You have left impressed upon me. I know you don't care too
Much for the easy things in life, always a hard battle with you.
I never yearned for too much when it came to your aging eyes,
All I asked was to learn, all I asked was that you taught me
Something that I had never known. You did. You taught me
What I could have and what I couldn't and that enraged me
But to hear of your illness now, well, I see that you
Lessons are the best that money cannot buy and I want to
Lock up your wisdom in my Pandora's box of secrets
Because that is a part of you that I know I will lose
And yet find it hard to accept that fact that I am losing you already.
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