Chain Letter

She sealed her soul into an envelope.

She sealed it with a kiss.

She wrote upon it, "to someone special."

Then he handed her his.

"An even trade," she thought to herself,

As she put the letter into his hands.

The little white envelope never came back to her.

"Oh well," she thought, "It's only 37 cents."

She sealed her heart into an envelope.

She sealed it with a hug.

She wrote upon it, "to someone wonderful."

Then he handed her an I.O.U. slip.

"Close enough," she thought to herself,

As she put the envelope into his hands.

The little tan envelope never came back again.

"Whatever," she thought, "It's only 37 cents."

She sealed her hope into an envelope.

She sealed it with a touch.

She wrote upon it, "to someone handsome."

Then he handed her blank parchment.

"At least it's something," she thought to herself,

As she put the envelope into his hands.

The little grey envelope never came back again.

"It's not that bad," she thought, "It's only 37 cents."

She sealed her faith into an envelope.

She sealed in with a glance.

She wrote upon it, "to someone."

Then he handed her a post-it note.

"It could be worse," she thought to herself,

As she put the envelope into his hands.

The little black envelope never came back again.

"What's it matter," she thought, "It's only 37 cents."

He sealed his soul into an envelope.

He sealed it with his love.

He wrote upon it, "to only one."

Then she showed him her letter.

"Your paper is so dark, I can not read the words," he said to her,

As he put the envelope back in his wallet.

She never saw him again.

"Why's it matter?" she said.

Then he replied,

"It's my only 37 cents."