Too Late

It’s hot here, yet I’m very cold. There’s a light on, I know, but I can’t see it. Somewhere there’s hope, but I’m not sure where it is. I have someone who loves me; I just don’t know who they are. The signs were there. Didn’t they see them? I tried to tell them, but I was told to go away and stop talking “nonsense”. I cried out, but no one wiped away my tears. Now they’ll see the light, but they’ll have no hope. Now they’ll say they love me, but it’s their own tears they’ll wipe. They’ll beg me to talk to them, but I won’t. You see, I'm dead. And, there’s nothing they can say or do about it.