The Letter
One day, a letter that I did write,
To her locker, did make it's flight.
She took the note and read it, from which I did see,
And then came over to my desk, to ask if it was me.
Jokingly, I denied, that it was not I,
But, she called my bluff, I just could not lie.
She told me she was not looking for a boyfriend at the time,
I had nothing to say back to her, I sounded like a mime.
Like a hot knife through butter, my lonely heart was cut,
My dry mouth was closed, and both my eyes shut.
I did my very best, to hold the tears from coming,
For what I felt, right then, could be compared to nothing.
Comfort had left me without a doubt,
Without a word, without a shout.
I was all alone, I was in the dark,
I only saw love, fall from it's mark.
It has been 3 years since that sad, sad day,
And I always will remember what she had to say.
"I'm not looking for commitment now, not for someone steady,
"I'm really, really sorry, I just don't think I'm ready."
Not a single day passes when she's not on my mind,
For all of her great beauty is making me go blind.
If I had one last decision, only one last choice,
I would ask to hear her quiet, soothing voice.
I have known her ever since I was a small child,
And when I see a picture of her, it always drives me wild.
That flowing blonde hair, those lovely blue eyes.
If only she could hear my heart's lonely cries.
All the time, I think of what it would be like
To be with her forever, till the end of life.
To hold her in my arms, to love her for all time,
To know that for eternity, I could have called her mine.
