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return HOME return POEM MENU I was looking through a desk drawer, trying to find a picture, and started to read some of the letters I had stashed away in there. This poem just started forming, and I couldn't get it written down fast enough. Luckily, I'm a fast typist! -MRW December 1999 They're all in this drawer, I've read them several times before. The letters I have received, The one's I have not sent. Whether through the mail, Or delivered by a friend. They all have so much to say, Each in there own little way. A few from a pen pal in third grade Talking of the science project he just made. A letter announcing a birth. And a few extras sent to show Just how fast little ones grow. A letter from a close friend Just to let me know he still does care. One or two just to say hello, And hope life treats you fair. But the most important one has not been sent. Postage on this one has yet to be spent. A letter for a friend who moved on, Yet left so much behind. Another to the lady who stole my heart, And kept a very large part. Letters to cousins, and brief acquaintances. Some written because I couldn't live, Some written from pure joy. But there is one unfinished letter, hiding at the bottom. And this one is the most important of all. This one is written to you. The words are not complete, Yet continually do pen and paper meet. Someday the letter shall end, With envelope sent, postage shall come due. But until then I just wanted to say, There's no way I could have written it without you. return HOME return POEM MENU |