January 10, 2006
Letters

Sometimes I think the stars have cried for you,
For all you’ve done on this earth.
Now you are a part of its dust,
And I sit at the stone that means so much.
It marks the spot at which you sleep,
Nevermore in my life to be.

Tears have covered this grass,
Dry from summer months of old.
I have remembered all our times,
I have counted all my blessings,
And you were all I had.
Now you’re all I’m missing,
I’m missing everything from the puzzle that you were.

I can’t bring you back, my angel,
Perfect in my bright eyes.
Even though I’ve written letters,
I haven’t sent a single one.
There’s no address to heaven,
And there’s no stamp to bring you back.