Why buy me flowers,
When I cannot hold them?
Why bring me flowers,
When I cannot smell them?
Why buy me food,
When I cannot eat?
Why decorate a tent,
When I cannot see it?
Why speak highly of me,
When I cannot hear you?
Why cry,
When I cannot comfort you?
Why remember the good deeds I’ve done,
When I’m no more, but never appreciated
While I’m still here?
Why praise me when I’m gone,
But couldn’t when I was still breathing?