Little Letters

It was almost everyday that I’d write a letter
With the hopes, the cries that maybe, it would get better
No matter how much I could try to write my best through all those pages
No words in pen could capture the way we spoke in those late night calls
As if we were timeless, as if we we had been lovers through the ages
Now laying in fear of loss every time the night falls
Though it may have been said that the pen is mightier than sword in part
Only love itself, despite any distance can truly crumble a heart 

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed