Maybe Tomorrow

Maybe tomorrow
when I'm older
and the sun has left my eyes
I'll understand why

Why hope can outlast depression
Why truth never changes
Why I can't refuse to believe
that everyone has some good in them.

Maybe when I'm dying
the color black finally winning
the light will enter
my mind will expand

Tell me why the rainbow's only after
the darkest cloud passes over
Tell me why even the sweetest melody
must have a deeper darker harmony
Tell me why the happiest person
also knows the pit of saddness

Maybe after I'm gone
my life just a flicker of faint fondness
People will look back and see
I try my best to overcome
to fight the fight and won.

Speak of me with love
Speak of me with a smile
Speak of me; never without mention of thee
They'll speak of you and me.

Maybe years from now
a thousand, or possibly two
I want people to still remember
that I deeply loved you.

_Olsen W. Potter_

Who?

Who would say that you're not loved?
Who would have the courage to do that?
Who would want you to live a life unloved?

Who could say that I can't love?
Who would open their mouth so wide?
Whoever said it must be jealous,
They can't understand what we feel.

Then I want to say that you really are
a person extremely blessed.
Theres a poet, well at least he tries,
that loves you with his life.
Theres a painter that just thinks about you
everything he does, he does for you.

He tries to write, place the words in the right order,
but the love runs so deep that the words run away.
How can he write, or paint for that matter,
that which conveys the faithfulness, the happiness, and the passion?

And so he stays, without being able
painting a picture that can't show,
writing a poem that can't say,
everything he holds inside.

Now then, Whoever says that you're not loved
doesn't know anything at all.
Because this man loves you more then anyone else
he just doesn't know how to express...
I love you.

-Olsen W. Potter_