Letters You'll Never Read

I write you letters everyday;

Letters that you'll never read.

I'll never show you,

And I'll never send them;

I haven't much to say.

But I keep writing you my letters;

Why do I write them anyway?

I write letters to people I never met,

And letters to people who left.

I write letters to you,

The one I left behind,

And I keep them in a box under my bed.

I write you letter everyday;

Letters that you'll never read.

I'll never show you,

And I'll never send them;

I haven't much to say.

But I keep writing you my letters;

Why do I write them, anyway?

Someday I'll die,

And they'll clean my room out,

And throw all my letters away.

They'll take the books and papers

Off of my shelf

And burn them when I'm in my grave.

Then my words will be gone;

The words you never read,

The words no one else cared to read.

They won't matter when I'm gone,

Because they only matter to me.

I write you letters everday;

Letters that you'll never read.

I'll never show you,

And I'll never send them;

I haven't much to say.

But I keep writing you my letters;

Why do I write them, anyway?

Perhaps one page

Will survive the fire,

Or fall out of the trash can.

Perhaps a curious person

Will pick it up,

And give it more than a 

Passing glance.

I hope that one page,

That one beautiful, lucky page,

Says enough to make them

Understand.

I keep writing letters

That I know you'll never read;

That I'll never send

Or show to you,

But that mean something to me.

I know I haven't much to say,

But that's why I keep writing,

Anyway.

I suppose that's why I keep writing

Anyway.

Now you know why I write them

Anyway.