Letter
I thought it was for me.
The paragraph you sent.
It didn't seem real at first, because it's not like the rest.
It was portrayed with perfection.
Exquisite grammar and use of punctuation.
The use of words personified a relation.
But I remember you had never wrote me a lovely note
with this fine source of poetry.
It swayed with passion and thought,
the simile was poetic and I loved it a lot.
How'd I ever believe it was for me,
I probably wouldn't even pass your mind.
Let alone, come to a conclusion of your poetic rhyme.
I wasn't hurt when you had mentioned it wasn't for me.
That it belonged to someone else, someone you adored, of course.
The only thing that I thought was:
why you wrote something so poetic,
heart felt,
special,
for someone else...
so quickly.
