Analysis of A Letter

Why do the things have to be always like this?
Why do have whenever I suffers so much?
Now which is the importance of being here?
For what to live? The life does just disgrace me to every second?
So that to live if
I am condemned to be far away from you?
That it disgraces! that I am private of the only light
That cheered up and they only remain me the tears.
I have not been using them except to cry unceasingly since
I knew that could not return.
But that cannot support and I will to die in little time
I die inside every minute
Now a thousand times a day
I drive you my sighs
A thousand times a day I drive you my thoughts
Since I cannot speak, since I cannot hear then I write.
Maybe you never get to read.
Loves me always forever.