Ink On The Paper

I lifted my drink up to toast you good fortune.
The tears came on stronger. Three bottles left open and we 
made all the employees wait. We started your car but didn't
 drive away. We sat there together and let the radio play 
the songs that would explain our lives. These songs are 
like letters. I employ my pen to write. The ink on the 
paper, like tears waiting to dry. The words I can scratch 
out, but they seem to always remain. I guess there are some
 things that refuse to be erased...