Dying With The Breeze

I know you think nobody loves you,
At times you feel all alone,
But believe me, that isn’t true,
The real you will be shone.

These thoughts that flooded your head,
I didn’t have a clue,
Well you lay there hopeless on your bed,
I don’t know what to do.

I feel if I say the wrong thing,
You may get offline,
So we can stop communicating,
And I’ll let you cry.

If I let your tears stream down,
What kind of a friend would I be?
The kind who didn’t hear the sound,
Of you dying with the breeze.

Based on you.