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Unsent, Unsaid
Unsent, Unsaid
A favorite song plays in the background,
Every lyric reminding me of you.
Conversations running through my head,
So many things that I wish you knew.
Every time that you brought me happiness,
I just never quite knew what to say.
I was afraid to say the wrong thing,
Thinking it would make you go away.
Every night I did the same old thing,
I wrote poem after poem on my bed.
I love you written a hundred ways,
Because of fear, they were never said.
The stack of poems stands tall.
Not one ever made it to you.
You simply walked away from me,
And a love that you never knew.
If only I would have taken a chance,
I know that you would still be here.
At night I still write you many poems,
Only now the ink is mixed with tears.
A growing pile, never ceasing,
Never signed, never read.
Painful letters engraved in papers,
Unsent, unsaid
poem
by
John Samson
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