Ah, when none will look upon the page,
The poet cries in pain,
For none will remember them in the next age.
None will remember me.
Ah, my words they fall like Autumn leaves,
The poet writes in vain,
For children will come and throw them to the breeze.
None will remember me.
Ah, but my inspiration strains,
The poet is not sane,
For madness comes from all their ideas in chains.
None will remember me.
Ah, lone reader who reads alone,
The poet shouts your name,
For joy comes into their heart when their words are known.
Will you remember me?
Will you remember me?
Can you remember me?
Please, remember me.