Dear Mr P

They say poems are the true feelings of the writer, so this I write you. Don’t worry I know you will never read it. For the man who delivered pizza to my sister's house on Katy Gap Road I’m warning you I’m just a little crazy When I saw you walk through the door and I asked ‘Why were you late? What I meant to say was ‘Look as I watched you come in, as I heard your voice. I had to come to see for myself if you were real.’ But instead of saying that I got nervous and asked a previously explained question. I believe in first impressions, so when I first saw you I thought to myself ‘dam’. Not, because you were FINE, but..more like easy on the eyes. The night sky offered us the moon as we found a park bench that fit us perfectly, and expressed our love for this and that. You planted your seeds of friendship in this parched soil of misery. That night I did not know the type of friend I made in you. Though you nagged at my flaws and wanted me to change more than the seasons. I knew then you had your reasons, Allowing me to accept that I hadn’t gone vacant. Just a little stagnant. You kindly and willingly showed a bit of yourself in hopes that your clear eyes will guide my blurr eyes to the watering hole of truth. To help me see my worth..like you. I bare my battle scars with grace for your honesty burned just as Texas heat, third-degree burns, and callous were inflicted. But you watered them down with brotherly love in hopes of one day I will blossom. These scars turned into thorns as they balanced the Roses that began to bloom. You have become my blessing in disguise, for I know it’s not just through you that your brotherly Love was shown. I tell you not how I feel in grants of obligation, for in my dreams I can speak these things without trepidation.