I wrote you a book of poems,
but you forgot to take it home,
so if you're leaving, let me know,
because you're the only home I have.
I'm taking all the book I own,
and putting them on a shelf.
So I can read to you each night,
before you throw yourself away.
I'm not saying that I'm right,
I only want to say good night.
I'm not perfect, that I'm sure,
I only want to be your cure.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI