With these eyes I can see,
my fingers writing,
what my heart feels.
My letter was written,
then left on my desk,
lost amongst the bills.
It was meant to be sent,
with love and kisses,
hoping we could make amends.
The stamp waited to be placed,
your envelope wasn't sealed,
to the mailbox I never raced.
Like a leaf in the breeze,
It blew away,
scattered amongst the...
Continue reading...