The Letters

So sad we do not write the letters to sweet beloved or our friends We have the other themes and fetters We are on way in search of sense. It would be good to scrawl on paper The words for them just simple words Not like the debt, not like some favour Without the points but with thoughts. To say I love through fear of shyness And not to eat them as a beast To be like angels in their kindness Without the roaming in the mist. So sad but we don’t write the letters The other themes have grown for world The other genius and fetters Another idol who is cold.