Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Letters

There's a box of letters behind my bed;
A box of letters you've never read.
Letters that I wrote to think things through.
Yellowed pages I never sent;
Faded words I really meant.
Words that aren't the things you heard me say.
Maybe you will see them someday,
Or maybe I'll throw them away.
Would they make you angry,
Or would you understand?
They were all well intended;
I wrote them knowing I'd never send them,
And you may never know how I felt.
There's a box of letters behind my bed;
Letters that you haven't read.
I wonder if you'll ever know how I feel.
I wonder, oh I wonder, how you feel.

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