The Note

Whispers heard

Shadows seen

Yet nobody tells the tale.

I’ve remarked

Several times

But nobody got my mail.

He wrote

Then I read it

Everything seemed fine

The problem

The write

Clearly says he isn’t mine.

Hearts lost

Long ago

They lay there in the past.

Sit, wait

Hoping

Maybe you’ll be his last.

 

What if she returns one day

Because she read his note?

The words of his undying love

Me, do I get a vote?

 

You wonder if he’d walk on you

Just to get back to her

Is that over or yet to begin?

Will it all just be a blur?

 

When you speak to him

Is it you he hears?

Or the hope she’ll come back

After just a few years?

 

Not ready for the reality

I’m a second choice

The first being a ghost from the past

With a clearly different voice.

 

The next time you get excited

Because you think he’s written you a note

To read it and see he beckons for her

You may want to ignore what he just wrote.

 

I wish things lasted

 

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2 thoughts on “The Note

  1. I like this so very much. It expresses a genuine life-force, and one I believe most of us live with every waking hour. I loved someone, long ago, and even now, after thirty years, I have that memory and that uncertainty in my soul. It is good to know I am not alone.

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