No. 180

This poem is about the demise of letter writing

You stand
Redundant
The writing is on the wall
How many hearts have you buoyed?
How many souls have you saddened?

You stand
Steadfast
never wavering in a storm
Ageing gracefully
Your mouth slightly open
waiting for the words to utter

You stand
Stoical
Hoping that this lull is only temporary
one day people may discover their loss
Rekindle the forgotten art

You stand
Resolute
Serving your purpose once again
Replete with handwritten missives
penned by lovers and friends.

Paper thin, faded words,
Subtle hints of perfumed pages
are all we have to link our
aged divide.