Love Left Unread
My heart is an unopened letter, Sealed with words that dare not fade,
Full of thoughts you’ll never gather,
Promises that time won’t trade.
It’s written for someone who won’t wait,
For a love that has no chance to bloom,
A hope that drifts through heaven’s gate,
To find itself lost in endless room.
The ink is fresh, the sentiment pure,
But you’ve long turned your eyes away,
And though my love is deep and sure,
It’s a love that has no voice to say.
I write for you, though you don’t ask,
Pouring all my soul in silent song,
But you’ve removed yourself from the task,
As if my heart was never where you belonged.
Yet, still, I write, and still, I send
Each letter knowing it won’t be seen,
A love that bends but will not end,
For you were once my world, my dream.
And now my heart, like paper torn,
Holds only words it can’t unfold,
A love too deep, a love too worn,
A secret, forever left untold.
My heart is an unopened letter,
Full of thoughts you’ll never gather,
Promises that time won’t trade.
It’s written for someone who won’t wait,
For a love that has no chance to bloom,
A hope that drifts through heaven’s gate,
To find itself lost in endless room.
The ink is fresh, the sentiment pure,
But you’ve long turned your eyes away,
And though my love is deep and sure,
It’s a love that has no voice to say.
I write for you, though you don’t ask,
Pouring all my soul in silent song,
But you’ve removed yourself from the task,
As if my heart was never where you belonged.
Yet, still, I write, and still, I send
Each letter knowing it won’t be seen,
A love that bends but will not end,
For you were once my world, my dream.
And now my heart, like paper torn,
Holds only words it can’t unfold,
A love too deep, a love too worn,
A secret, forever left untold.
