I'm thinking of writing you a letter
One wordy, thorough, and long
I'll write down every thought
Every poem, pleasure, song.
It would take days to write
Precious ticks of the time
Still no hours could amount
To the pain within each rhyme
So many words I wish to finish
I'm filled with weeping wounds
Tears that crept from my crys
Dreams ridiculously ruined
When my hands start aching
And the paper has been soaked through
I'll fold up my whole heart
And ill sign it addressed to you
I'll pay that single cent
For a stamp in the corner
And I'll sign my name in black
Like a dedicated mourner
For the next millenia I'll wait
For a reply that'll never come
There's no return on that letter
Since I'm so desperate to be done
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 12:08 AM UTC
I'm thinking of writing you a letter
One wordy, thorough, and long
I'll write down every thought
Every poem, pleasure, song.
It would take days to write
Precious ticks of the time
Still no hours could amount
To the pain within each rhyme
So many words I wish to finish
I'm filled with weeping wounds
Tears that crept from my crys
Dreams ridiculously ruined
When my hands start aching
And the paper has been soaked through
I'll fold up my whole heart
And ill sign it addressed to you
I'll pay that single cent
For a stamp in the corner
And I'll sign my name in black
Like a dedicated mourner
For the next millenia I'll wait
For a reply that'll never come
There's no return on that letter
Since I'm so desperate to be done
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