Many letters I wrote to you,
And many love poems too,
All of them about you,
Page after page, my heart so true.
Expressing my hopes and fears,
And when my eyes filled with tears,
My pages smeared, emotions near,
Pouring out my love, so dear.
But you'll never get to see,
What I wrote so endlessly,
Unopened, they'll always be,
Or in flames, they'll be set free.
You know why I won't send,
These words I can't rescind,
My dignity, I must defend,
Even if it's not the end.
I wonder if I had sent,
What would you do, my friend?
Would you read them to the end,
And feel the love I try to send?
Would you be shocked and surprised,
Tears falling from your eyes,
Or feel guilty and chastised,
As our past is analyzed?
Would you feel pain in your heart,
And want to make a new start,
Or tear them all apart,
And break my heart, a la carte?
I wonder what you would do,
But I can't know for sure,
So I'll keep these words anew,
My love for you, forever true.
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YOU ARE READING
The Sound of Silence
Non-FictionHave you ever dared to listen to the whispers of silence? It may seem like a deafening void, but if you open your ears and heart, you will uncover a tale that is yet to be told. It could be the story of a universe unfolding, the murmur of your own...
