I can't promise you
		cloudless skies
				continual bliss
						or thornless rose gardens . . .

I can't promise you
		painless days
				tearless nights
						or even endless passion
								for I've already promised you
										truth . . .

I can't promise you
		the stuff
				movies and romance novels
						are made of . . . 
								momentary wishes
								dreams come true . . . 
						or the thrill of a lifetime . . .
				for I've already
		promised you reality . . .

I can't promise you
		world fortunes
				conquered empires
						or trips to the moon . . . 
								for I've already promised you
										all that I have . . .

I can't promise you
		answers for every question
				freedom from fear
						or a brand-new day . . .
								because promises of everything
						usually add up to nothing . . .
				and I've already promised
		not to make promises
I can't keep . . . 
		therefore . . .
				all I can promise you
						is me . . .