Leaving Letters

They leaked onto the  bleached white canvas, the words he couldn’t bare to speak

His choice to leave a letter in his place, he knew it to be weak

But the croak her throat would form and tears displayed would leave him woed

“A letter left is better,” he assured himself as his pen strode

Dear Love, I’ve come to recognize in life you are my truest friend

And yet I find I must hasten our brooding love to meet its end

A drop from his cheek surprised him, falling quickly pon’ the bottom page

“Forgive me,” spilled out from his lips as he continued to engage

No more than ten minutes had passed before the page had filled with ink

He sat it there upon her chair and left before he’d time to think

And later on, tucked neath’ the sheets, he felt a morcel of regret

But then the arm of his betrothed around his waist let him forget

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