If this letter finds you well
If my name still rings a bell
Prithee take it by the edge
Stand real close to window's ledge
If I write something that smarts
If I fire with Eros darts
Toss these words into the air
Shake those thoughts straight from your hair
This is not meant to bring love
Hard, yes, to convince you of
Harder still make me believe
My intention to relieve
Pressure building to an act
Fore that act becomes a fact
Long it's been since I was near
Longer still since you must hear
Words from me so trembling spoke
With no doubt what they betoke
Could it be I'm over you?
Do I want this to be true?
What I can say without doubt
What was secret now is out
My love for you has filled a poem
Not a ditty or a tome
But real literature I wrote
Not my hopes to keep afloat
But to lance from me the pain
Erase my heart of the stain
I know why it did not work
Not because I was a jerk
But because I was so scared
My true thoughts I never bared
Now I've penned a trilogy
That's entitled 'She', 'You', 'Me'
Just your part has been printed
My words with my blood tinted
There you have it, my story
No guts, true, and no glory
Now it's easy for the poet
Behind picked words to show it
What for me was big magic
Lacked the brass to be real tragic.
© 2006 by Michael J. Farrand

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