For some reason I had missed Leonard Cohen's Book Of Longing:

"I can't make the hills/
The system is shot/
I'm living on pills/
For which I thank G-d

I followed the course/
From chaos to art/
Desire the horse/
Depression the cart

I sailed like a swan/
I sank like a rock/
But time is long gone/
Past my laughing stock

My page was too white/
My ink was too thin/
The day wouldn't write/
What the night penciled in

My animal howls/
My angel's upset/
But I'm not allowed/
A trace of regret

For someone will use/
What I couldn't be/
My heart will be hers/
Impersonally

She'll step on the path/
She'll see what I mean/
My will cut in half/
And freedom between

For less than a second/
Our lives will collide/
The endless suspended/
The door open wide

Then she will be born/
To someone like you/
What no one has done/
She'll continue to do

I know she is coming/
I know she will look/
And that is the longing/
And this is the book"

It's perhaps not Cohen's best song, but there is something I love about this poem.