I heard you were hurting.
I heard your mom and dad
Stopped loving each other,
And the distance between them
Kills you.
I want to say:
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry the pain is making you sick,
I’m sorry you feel hopeless,
I’m sorry you have to hide it.
You don’t know me,
And you may not care to;
You’d probably find it strange
That I sit here at night
Writing poems about you.
But I wish for you to be happy,
And I wish to help,
Although all I can do
Is sit here, and dream
That one day,
I’ll wrap my arms around you,
And show you the love
Your parents never have.
So until that day
(If it ever comes),
I’ll sit here every night
Writing poems about you.