Of the many ways to tell you how I feel.
I could shout out loud,
Write in the dirt.
Paint in smoke across miles
Of the sky all the ways
I love you.
But none of it would mean as much.
So with the last ink,
Of this last pen.
I’ll write the words
Which too would be my last breath.
I love you, my darling.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
Of the many ways to tell you how I feel.
I could shout out loud,
Write in the dirt.
Paint in smoke across miles
Of the sky all the ways
I love you.
But none of it would mean as much.
So with the last ink,
Of this last pen.
I’ll write the words
Which too would be my last breath.
I love you, my darling.
The prompt was, what would you write with only a few lines of ink left in the last pen
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