There is a letter
With words of regret.
The pen has dried up,
And the ink has spilled
And stained.
The stains of the
Pain
When the writer was
There before
But there\'s nothing left
There is a letter
With forgotten words.
A fancy font
A loving caress of
Literature
The pen once held
A ballet
Upon that parchment.
Now it\'s just a forgotten
Letter.
There is letter
Which someone once
Spilled their thoughts upon.
Now there is a letter
Where the thoughts are all regrets
I felt those regrets
I felt that pain
I felt those stains
And I felt the love
Of which the author wrote
There is a letter
Which you once read.
It is now hidden
Beneath a dresser,
Beneath a dusty memory.
The blanks in their mind
The letter once was
Is now gone.
Forgotten,
Just like the rest of us.