LOVE COUTDOWN
Ten, I wrote poems, with my pen---
Nine, about you when I'm not fine.
Eight, all the words I create---seven,
evenly hurts and makes me sedate.
Six, I'm still picking up your sticks.
Five, and using it for my heart to fix.
Four, I don't know what else you're looking for.
Three, but you're really the one that I adore.
Two, even though you already flew.
One, I'll still be in love with you.
