The gift in pens,
fit to ascend,
mere mortals to the mantle of the heavens,
has left me in a state of haste...to die in place of a goodbye that was never said.

And I’d say it now,
but no one is around to hear,
that could appreciate the sound like you.
In truth, my memories speak “I’m sorries” soft enough to make angles weep at what will never be heard...and my final words to you will forever be said regretfully.

Respectfully yours,
A memory.