The Letter

**Try and read this with natural rhythm and flow.

If you knew a lonely person, would you call them on the phone?
Or would you write a letter, saying "I'm sorry your so alone."
And would you think that letter, would have love within its words,
Or do you think it would be pity, like harmless ball-point swords?

Would you put "Sincerely," on the bottom, or "With Love, from your friend",
Would you idle by your mailbox, pondering whether or not to send?
Would you have butterflies in your stomach, afraid of what they will think,
Afraid they may think you're crazy, and afraid you are on the brink.

What if one week passes, and you receive a letter in the mail,
From the lonely friend you wrote to, and whose contents thus entail:
"I'm sorry that it has come to this, I always thought you my best friend,
I've been travelling through this maze of my life, each turn brings another dead end".

Two weeks later your old letter returns, marked as "Unable to Send",
You look at it quite confused, then pick up the phone to call your friend.
There's no answer on the other phone, and your heart begins to dive,
If your letter had been a few days before, your friend might still be alive.

**Yea, another death poem. And suicide, too, no less. I'm really not sick and twisted, I promise. This one just sort of created itself as I went along - I didn't know how it was going to end.