I’ve written you letters, tucked safe in a drawer,
Each one a whisper of love I never bore.
In ink, I spilled secrets, silent and true,
A life of longing shaped softly for you.

Pages turned yellow as years drifted by,
With words like a river too timid to try.
Each line held a heartbeat, each verse held a tear,
But I folded them quietly, kept them in fear.

I watched from the sidelines, a friend in disguise,
Dreams hidden in shadows, concealed in my eyes.
The courage to tell you—so close yet so far,
Like reaching for heaven but touching a star.

One day, I decided, I’d lay my heart bare,
No more folded letters, no more quiet despair.
But when I arrived, you'd vanished from view—
Gone to a new life, someone new beside you.

Now these letters lie buried, each one a regret,
In a drawer full of "what ifs" I can’t quite forget.
I wonder sometimes, had I just been more bold,
Would our story have blossomed, instead of grown cold?

So here they remain, like a love never told,
Words bound by silence, in pages grown old.
Unread, unspoken, they lie still and true—
The only place left where my love lives for you.
-A.V.H