A letter or two or three or four. It was late I knew, I was not far. But far I was to be there.
A pen and paper was all it took. Then the storm was all that looked. Sincerely Yours a game of chance. Who’s really telling my story?
An observer, I hope with a pen and paper you wrote. Two sides to every story yet destiny together until we meet again.
For I knew this would be the last night together. The sky is on fire, burning brighter. The world is ending yet, I’m just beginning. In the end I made what’s mine sincerely, yours.
Only saving so many, without memory. I may never remember you sincerely but my heart will always have enough in it to love me more.
My lesson in grief sincerely, yours a place where I am from.
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