I wrote you a poem,
But you never saw it.
All those years ago,
Folded in my pocket.
It didn't say much.
It was short and it was sweet.
It said just enough,
Explained my thoughts complete.
I can still remember
Just how it goes:
I said that I loved you,
But now you'll never know.

I meant to be cliche,
Slip it in your notebook.
Something you could read
When you were alone, but
I guess I chickened out,
Or perhaps I just forgot
Because the next thing I know
I sent it through the wash.
Couldn't read a thing.
Ruined, had to go.
I wrote that I loved you,
But now you wouldn't know.

Never was the one
To discuss my feelings.
Couldn't open up,
Reveal vulnerabilities.
So instead I wrote them down.
It seemed safe that way.
But I knew if you read it
The result would be the same.
So I never tried again,
I let it go.
Still knew that I loved you,
Relieved you'd never know.

Perhaps it was fate
Or the things I couldn't say,
But we reached that point
Where you went your separate way.
Now I only write
For myself and strangers.
Anonymity means
Very little danger.
And I understand
Why you had to go,
But I'll love you forever,
Even if you never know.